You Only Live Once
by rinsled05
Summary: [Victuuri, Supernatural AU] Victor is a thrill-seeking actor/model by day and demon hunter by night; Yuuri is an interpreter by day and youkai exterminator by night. Oh, and Yuuri's also a half-youkai; Victor can't imagine anything more exciting than that. A cross-cultural supernatural romantic comedy/drama, with Japanese mythology, shounen action, and slice of life elements.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** Welcome to my cross-cultural supernatural AU! I am a mad woman for even thinking of starting up a new series, but I'm going to be a lot busier by mid-summer so I figured: now's really the best time for writing. Without further ado, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts! _

* * *

**thrill seek·er  
** _noun  
_ a person who is eager to take part in dangerous or exciting activities that involve physical risk

* * *

"I hardly find this a good idea, Victor."

"It's just for a bit of fun before the photo shoot tomorrow, Chris." Victor looks up at the thick canopy above him, rendering the forest grounds dark even with the moon hanging high in the sky. He shifts the quiver of arrows to a more comfortable spot on his back as he continues deeper into the forest. "We've never exorcised a Japanese demon before."

"And that's precisely what concerns me," Christophe snorts over the phone. "We don't know what you'll face out there, plus Yakov will kill me if there are scars on his precious product."

"We've avoided that so far, haven't we?"

"That's because I've always been there to save your well-sculpted behind."

Something nearby makes a crunching sound, like a heavy weight landing in a pile of dead leaves.

"Incoming," Victor says, dropping his voice to a whisper. Ignoring Christophe's next words, Victor hangs up, tucking his phone into his pants pocket. Carefully, he slides the bow off his shoulder and picks out an arrow, the silver-coated tip gleaming in the darkness.

Born into families that have conducted exorcisms since the old witch hunts, he and Christophe have been hunting demons as a pair since they turned of age. Victor enjoys the chase, the _thrill_ of subduing and killing a foul-faced creature, more so than his day job as an international actor slash model. With his looks, Christophe could very well have been a star too, but the man chose to become Victor's agent instead, so they could travel together and plan locations based solely on exorcism assignments. The upcoming photoshoot in Hasetsu, Japan has nothing to do with demons, however; for this particular location shoot, Victor simply wanted a chance to visit the country.

Or so he thought until this very forest, just a few blocks away from his hotel, called to his need for fresh excitement.

Victor has his arrow trained in the direction of the sound, when he hears that same crunch coming from behind him. Whipping round, he pulls the bowstring taut, only to turn his gaze upwards, gaping in astonishment.

The demon is a giant, faceless humanoid shadow; massive as a house and nothing at all like the demons Victor is familiar with. Victor barely has a second to throw himself to the side, before the shadowy form lifts a foot to stomp the spot he was standing just moments before.

Rolling to his feet, Victor releases the arrow into what seems like the creature's head – only to watch the projectile fly through the creature as though it isn't there at all.

"Silver's out," Victor mutters to himself, dodging a swipe by a shadow hand that moves at a speed that definitely doesn't match its size. "Let's try _this_ – " Quickly, he reaches into the pouch on his belt and flings white grains at the creature, anticipating some sort of monstrous bellow of pain.

The only reaction the demon gives is to pause in slight confusion, before it tries to stomp on Victor with its other foot.

Well. That didn't work.

The Russian hunter stands up, takes a second to straighten his maroon Armani leather jacket, before high-tailing it in the opposite direction.

* * *

Not good, not good, _not good_ , thinks Victor as he sprints in a zigzag motion through the forest, listening to the mute creature's heavy crunches behind him. Every once in a while, the ground shakes as the creature's hands miss in their attempts to crush the demon hunter to a pancake. In Victor's experience, all demons are susceptible to silver, salt, or some combination of the two with other elements, but it seems the cultural differences between East and West extend even to the supernatural realm.

Much as the new knowledge only increases his fascination of Japan, Victor hopes he can get out of this little adventure alive and unscathed. He does hate it when Christophe is right.

Suddenly, the demon lets out a deafening howl.

Skidding to a halt, Victor twists round in time to see a large, solid black mass land with a thump in front of him.

The creature's arm, Victor realizes with amazement.

"Your Western methods won't work here, demon hunter."

Someone lands silently next to the dismembered arm. Through the darkness, Victor sees that it's a man dressed in a long trench coat, holding a long spear with blades on both ends. ( _Extraordinary._ ) Before Victor can ask about the unique weapon, the man has leapt to the sky to evade the swat of a giant hand. The blades carve silver arcs in the dark, and the demon howls again to the sound of another thump, in pain from losing its remaining arm.

It's when the man is soaring in mid-air under the full moon that Victor gets a good look at him: he's Japanese, with black hair slicked back in a styled look, and a lithe body covered in tight, _tight_ , leather under a navy blue coat. The shirt collar dips low, revealing sharp collarbones that compliment an even sharper jawline above the curve of a slender neck. Wielding the long spear and bathed in moonlight, the man's ethereal beauty makes for such a captivating painting that Victor breath hitches in wonder at the sight.

And when the man lands on the ground again, Victor sees the final piece that captures his heart absolutely and thoroughly – a pair of brilliant, _golden_ eyes.

 _This beauty is not human._

Victor doesn't even notice the crunching sounds of the creature making its escape.

The man turns towards him, spear twirling idly in his hand. "I think you should leave now, hunter, while you have the – "

Gold eyes meet blue and the man halts mid-sentence.

Then, to Victor's surprise, the unwavering composure shifts, just as the gold color dulls to a plain brown.

"V-V-V-Victor Nikiforov!?" the man shrieks, slapping hands to his cheeks and backing away so fast that Victor feels vaguely offended.

"Yuu~ri," an amused voice singsongs from the treetops, "You can ogle your idol _after_ we've exterminated that _youkai_."

 _Idol_?

The Japanese man glances at Victor, hesitating, before taking off in the direction of the fading sounds, coat tails flying behind him.

"Wait!" Victor calls, but the man is already gone.

No matter, he'll find the other hunter again. Demon hunting is a small world, smaller still when the local hunter is a beautiful man called Yuuri who speaks fluent English.

* * *

The photo shoot takes place in front of Hasetsu Castle, which Victor itches to explore. Old castles are often rife with all kinds of supernatural beings. Unfortunately, he's at his day job, which means he has to follow society's convention of "normality". (In other words, "boring".) Flicking silver bangs out of his eyes, Victor plasters on a smile and joins his fellow models for group selfies on the castle grounds as they wait for their turn before the camera.

"It's very quaint, isn't it, this country," says one of the models.

"Everything is so small," agrees another.

"Wonder if _everything_ is small," says a model, waggling his eyebrows suggestively to the giggles of the female models.

"Oh, I think so," snickers one model at the side, "I can tell you that their largest condom size won't fit any of us."

"Used one already, have you?" says a female model, and the rest of the group dissolves in laughter.

With a sigh, Victor turns his gaze to the white castle behind, standing tall and majestic in the clear, blue sky. None of his colleagues know anything beyond sex, fashion, the latest dieting and workout fads, and finally, more sex. Sex is fantastic, of course, a whole different sort of excitement from demon hunting. Still, a few minutes of pleasure – often more than a few, if Victor were honest about his skills – is nothing compared to the thrill of a chase, of the _hunt_ , as he tracks down his quarry with pure adrenaline coursing through his veins.

There's a flash of sharp lines, soft curves, and bright, bright gold, and Victor smiles to himself at the memory.

And now there's one chase he can't wait to begin as soon as the shoot is over.

"Nikiforov!"

Victor graciously excuses himself from the group and heads to the set. As he stands in front of the cameras and reflectors, he lets his eyes roam absently about the set while a make-up artist scurries over to touch up his foundation. If there's one thing that crosses cultures all over the world, it's the equipment set-up for a photo shoot: predictable and always the same. (Honestly, Victor doesn't know what he would do if it weren't for his family's unusual trade. Probably find a passion in skydiving, volcano boarding, or maybe even ice-skating – the jumps do look quite thrilling on television.) His gaze falls on the Japanese photo shoot director, an anxious, scrawny man, who appears to be deep in conversation with –

Victor's heart thrums with elation.

He looks different, with black hair left messy and blue-framed glasses perched on a small nose. Gone is the trench coat and leather, replaced by a simple blazer over a white dress shirt and grey slacks.

But Victor has the man's gorgeous features etched in his memory, and no amount of ordinary dressing can hide such beauty.

Just like that, "boring" has turned to "best day ever".

"Ah, Victor," his agency's manager beckons for him, "Before you start, I'd like you to meet Yuuri Katsuki, our interpreter for the shoot."

"Yuuri," Victor says, deliberately dragging out the first syllable and relishing the way the Japanese man's face turns a delightful shade of pink, "A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Yuuri replies, flashing a nervous smile.

The gap between this personality and last night's is so vast that Victor can't help but grow more intrigued.

Next to Yuuri, the director claps his hands together and says a few rapid words of Japanese.

"The director says he'll begin your shoot, if you're ready," Yuuri translates smoothly.

"Certainly. Oh and Yuuri," Victor crooks a smile over his shoulder, "Do let me know when you get off work today? I'd love to buy you dinner."

The quick exchange that Yuuri has with the director after that probably has to do with Yuuri's efforts at explaining why he started spluttering wildly like a crazed person.

* * *

They argue for several minutes, with Yuuri protesting some silly nonsense about work boundaries and having leftovers in the fridge, but Victor wins in the end, with the Japanese man finally giving in to Victor's persistent cajoling. (Thrill of the chase, indeed.) The Russian star takes Yuuri to a French restaurant he found on the first floor of his hotel. The disadvantage of wining and dining as a foreigner is that he doesn't know any good restaurants in the area; on the other hand, one can never go wrong with a restaurant in a five-star hotel. Indeed, with the soft candle lighting, white tablecloths, and elegant chairs, the restaurant has the precise ambience Victor is seeking for a slow seduction over a prolonged eight-course meal.

That, and the fact that Yuuri's features look even more mesmerizing, illuminated in the candlelight.

"Wow, this is fancier than I expected," Yuuri remarks sheepishly as the waiter drapes a napkin over his lap. "I feel so underdressed."

"You look fine," Victor assures. _More than fine_. "It's a hotel restaurant so people come in whatever they want. There's even a couple in pajamas."

"There is?" Yuuri says, craning his neck to scan the restaurant.

"No, I just said that to help you feel less embarrassed."

There's a beat, before Yuuri laughs, and Victor decides he wants to find more ways to bring that out of the other man. "Thanks."

"Can I start you off with anything, Sirs?" the waiter asks in accented English.

"We'll have two glasses of champagne," Victor replies without hesitation.

"Champagne?" Yuuri says, eyes wide.

"My treat, remember?" Victor winks, marveling the way the blush spreads so quickly across the fair cheeks. "So, Yuuri," he leans on his hands, eyes creasing in his most charming smile, "Let's talk about what we did last night."

The glasses fog up almost comically. "L-Last night?"

Victor's smile broadens. "In the forest, together, under the light of the moon…"

Yuuri's hands fly to his cheeks in a gesture so reminiscent of his panicked reaction the night before that Victor struggles to contain his laughter. "Could you not make it sound like we – " the Japanese man stops, face going aflame as the waiter returns to pour champagne into their glasses.

"Like we…?" Victor prompts teasingly when the waiter leaves.

Yuuri looks as if he's about to finish the sentence, before he shakes his head vigorously, dropping his hands to his lap. "You weren't supposed to see that," he says instead, eyes lowering to the table.

"Why not?" says Victor, tilting his head slightly. "You were magnificent."

Yuuri's gaze snaps up in surprise. "I was?"

"Magnificent," Victor affirms, "And the most beautiful sight I've ever laid eyes on."

There's that blush again; Victor makes a mental note to compliment Yuuri as often as he can. "Not many people would say that," Yuuri says, "Especially the beautiful part."

"How could they not after seeing you in battle, after seeing your _eyes_ in battle?"

Yuuri blinks once, before he straightens in his seat. "You liked my eyes?" he says softly.

"I _like_ your eyes," Victor corrects, "Present shade included."

And then, Yuuri's lips curve into a shy smile, long eyelashes lowering into a half-lidded gaze. "Thank you," he murmurs, and Victor's heart skips a beat. "That means a lot more to me than you know."

"Then on that note," says Victor, picking up his flute of champagne before he blurts out his feelings too fast, too soon, "Cheers to a fortuitous meeting."

"Cheers," Yuuri agrees, clinking his glass against Victor's.

"Tell me, Yuuri," Victor says after a drink, "How are your eyes so gold? I've never seen that color before."

"That's because Western demons generally have black or red eyes," Yuuri points out, "Whereas Japanese _youkai_ have a slightly larger color spectrum."

" _You-kai_?"

"Our version of demons."

Victor leans forward. "So you _are_ …."

For a moment, Yuuri looks cagey, as though he had said something he shouldn't have. Then, pushing at his glasses in a determined gesture, he nods slowly. "I'm half- _youkai_. Or to be more accurate, I'm carrying the burden of my family's curse."

"What do you mean?"

"One of my ancestors got so drunk that he ate all the offerings at a local Inari shrine. Tipped over the rice barrels, even. His insolence angered the fox _youkai_ residing inside, so the Katsuki clan was cursed to forever bear sons with _youkai_ blood in them."

" _Wow_ ," says Victor, eyes sparkling, mouth shaping into a heart, "That's the least tragic origin story I've ever come across!"

"Depends on your definition of 'tragic'," Yuuri's lips quirk slightly.

"What kind of _youkai_ are you then?"

"Fox. It really only surfaces when I'm pushing my body past its limits, like when I'm in danger or in pain..."

"Or in battle?" Victor adds with great keenness.

"Yes." Yuuri bites on his lower lip, eyebrows furrowing. "So you're not… upset that I'm part _youkai_?"

"Not at all," Victor beams, "I think it makes you more special."

Yuuri stares at him for a second, before breaking out into a soft laugh. "You're the strangest demon hunter I've ever met."

Victor raises his flute of champagne, winking and treasuring the endearing blush that results. "I take that as a compliment."

Over the course of their meal together, Victor learns a great deal. He learns that, unlike their Western demon counterparts, _youkai_ are spiritual beings and therefore require weapons blessed by a Shinto priest to kill them. Yuuri's own weapon is a blessed _sansetsukon_ , or Japanese three-part spear, with modifications made to its original design. (" _Three_ parts?" Victor gasps in delight while Yuuri smiles enigmatically.) He learns that the equivalent of a demon hunter in Japan is called a _youkai_ exterminator, with the _Youkai_ Exterminator Society functioning as the main organization governing all supernatural related activities in the country. The Saga branch is located in Hasetsu, though Yuuri apparently is not a member. ("I prefer freelance missions," Yuuri says simply before he changes the subject.)

On his part, Victor shares his background with Yuuri: of his family's history in demon hunting, of his own passion for the trade, of the assorted demons he has put away with Christophe. He feels so comfortable that he even opens up about his childhood for the first time, telling Yuuri how tedious he finds it that his peers admired him because of his mysterious nature, idolized him even, without any knowledge of his true self. The entire time, Yuuri listens with rapt attention, nodding and making soft noises of sympathy at all the right points.

Beautiful, warm, and brimming with an almost unearthly compassion: if Victor wasn't sure of his feelings for Yuuri before, he certainly is now.

And then, there's also Yuuri's battle persona – a side of the Japanese man that Victor is more than eager to experience again.

"Do you go on missions on your own?" Victor asks, popping in a small bite of the opera cake they decided to split together.

"I usually go with my partner," Yuuri replies, poking his fork into the cake.

Victor definitely doesn't like the sound of those last two words coming out of Yuuri's mouth, especially when they're not in reference to _him_. "The voice in the trees last night?" he asks casually.

"Yes, his name is Phichit," Yuuri smiles, and Victor frowns.

"That doesn't sound very Japanese."

"That's because he's from Thailand." Yuuri's nose scrunches in pleasure, fork still in his mouth. "This cake is really good."

"Yes it's not bad," Victor says dismissively. "So tell me more about Phichit. How did you meet?"

"We met in college when I went to America for an exchange program. He decided to come here after he graduated."

"Why's that?"

Yuuri is taking another bite of cake when he pauses for a second, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. In the short time that they have known each other, Victor recognizes the move as a telltale sign of burgeoning anxiety. "Something about Japan's supernatural phenomenon being more interesting, I think," the Japanese man mumbles, slipping the cake piece in his mouth.

"I see," Victor hums. "Are you lovers?"

Yuuri chokes.

Patiently, Victor waits for the coughing to subside.

" _No_ ," Yuuri gasps after a while, "We're just friends! Good friends, but _friends_."

"Ah," says Victor, face splitting into a megawatt smile. "Since we're on the subject, _do_ you have a lover?"

Yuuri looks at Victor as if he has taken his clothes off and started doing the can-can in the middle of the restaurant. "No?" he says finally.

"Does the inflection at the end mean 'it's complicated' or you're unsure as to whether 'no' is the correct answer?"

"It means I was stunned by the question," Yuuri mutters, stuffing in a large mouthful of cake and endearingly smearing chocolate on the corner of his lips.

"So it's a no then," Victor clarifies, heart singing when Yuuri nods in response. ( _Perfect._ ) Gently, he reaches across the table to grasp Yuuri's chin and swipe his thumb across the chocolate stain. Yuuri's face blooms a dark shade of red then, and Victor lingers, taking the chance to stroke the flushed skin with his thumb, sliding deliberately across the plush bottom lip, before pulling back.

Yuuri's glasses have slid down his nose, eyelashes fluttering over large brown eyes.

"You had chocolate on the side of your mouth," Victor says belatedly.

"T-Thanks," the Japanese man murmurs, touching his lips with an almost reverent expression.

Victor chuckles, pleased to no end that he can have such an effect on the other man. "I'd love to join you on your missions, Yuuri, if you'll allow me."

"Oh," Yuuri flashes a look of surprise, "Are you sure? It's really quite different here. Too many hunters have lost their lives because of that."

"Then it's a good thing I'll have you by my side."

Yuuri flushes, lowering his head to push abashedly at his glasses. (Mentally, Victor adds another tally to his blush count.) "But doesn't your photo shoot end by lunch tomorrow? You must be leaving after, right?"

"Actually," Victor says, making a decision right then and there, "I'll be in Japan for a quite a while longer than I expected."

"For a new movie?" asks Yuuri, brightening.

That's right, what was it Phichit called him last night? Yuuri's 'idol'?

"Exactly! I can't tell you what it is, or it'd spoil the fun of watching it," Victor lies smoothly.

"All right, but you'll have to let me know when it's in theaters," Yuuri beams, so sweet and trusting, as if Victor hadn't fallen for him hard enough already. "About the missions, let me ask Phichit first. He'll probably be fine with you joining us, but I think it's the considerate thing to do."

"Of course." Smiling winsomely, Victor takes the last bit of cake, savoring the final taste of deliciousness for the night.

"I'm really glad you're staying," Yuuri says shyly then, eyes soft and soulful behind the spectacle lens.

This time, it's Victor's turn to choke.

* * *

Yakov is yelling at him, which isn't new, really.

The anger in the coarse voice practically sends vibrations through his phone, surging louder and louder with each shout.

It gets to the point where Victor puts the company president on speakerphone so he can preserve his abused eardrums.

"You're an international model and actor! I run one of the leading _global_ agencies in the whole damn world! Why transfer to some unknown agency at some small country, to an even tinier, godforsaken town!? And to have the audacity to take your agent with you!"

"I've just fallen in love with Japan," Victor says cheerily.

"Japan? _Japan_? You're more likely to fall for some porn star boy toy _called_ 'Japan'!"

"Just so you know," Christophe drawls, "'I'm in Japan right now' is going to have a whole new meaning for me."

As Yakov launches into several Russian expletives, Victor turns to the Swiss man, who's dressed in nothing but silk robes, lounging on the twin bed next to his. With Christophe's arrival, Victor had requested a change to a hotel room with two queen beds rather than a single king, and Christophe, naturally, had stripped before unpacking any of his suitcases.

"Helpful as always," Victor remarks with a grin.

"I try," Christophe shrugs, before he nods at the phone on the dressing table. "That poor man might just pass out if he doesn't take a breath."

" – I won't let you back again, Vitya; this time, you're out for good, and you can forget about me paying for your ridiculous hotel bills – "

Victor hangs up.

"How does _that_ help?" Christophe chortles.

"It'll give him time to breathe," Victor says, picking up his phone, "Literally and figuratively."

"We're not going to be able to afford hotels for long, you know."

"We could if _someone_ didn't blow our savings on firearms."

"Hey, no dissing my girls. They've helped us out of some tight spots."

Laughing, Victor leans back against the dresser, crossing his arms. He'll never understand Christophe's obsession with guns, much less his partner's insistence on referring to them as his 'girls'. "Anyway, I'll figure something out."

"As you always do." Christophe stretches languidly, the robes slipping off one shoulder in a lascivious manner. "So your boy's eyes were really gold in color?"

"Gold as a summer wheat field," Victor sighs with deep rapture.

"And it only showed in battle? Could be a sign of possession, no?"

"He says he's half so he's half," Victor says firmly. "Besides, he clearly retains memories of the night before, and – oh wait till you see him _fight_ , Chris. Like an angel of death; a divine, _bewitching_ angel of death. And then there's his alter ego: shy and sweet and oh-so- _cute._ "

Christophe throws him a lazy grin. "Whatever you say, my love-struck friend. I'm just here to check out this _youkai_ phenomenon."

Victor's phone chirps and a new message flashes across the screen: **[Phichit says OK.]**

The Russian hunter lights up.

He's going to be in Japan – the country – for a long, _long_ while.

* * *

Notes

In this story, Western demons include vampires, werewolves, succubi, etc, that can only be hurt by silver, salt, or some other element. _Youkai_ include all the assorted animal ( _kitsune_ , _inugami_ , _bakeneko_ ), insect ( _tsuchigumo_ ), human-like ( _yuki onna_ ) spiritual beings with astral forms that only be hurt by blessed objects. I won't be using the exact _youkai_ I've given as examples here, but I might use them as references.

Yes, Victor charged his romantic date with Yuuri on his company's account lol.

I'm trying something new: spelling Victor with a 'c' instead of a 'k', just to keep it consistent with the official name.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for favoriting and leaving reviews! As always, it continues to fuel and inspire me. 3 _

_This chapter has lots of cross-cultural slice of life stuff, some shounen action, and tons of characters brought in. I hope it doesn't get too much of an exposition at times. Enjoy, and let me know your thoughts!_

* * *

TO: Angel  
 **[Yuuri~!** **Do you know of any cheap inns in the area?]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[My family runs an inn, but I wouldn't call it cheap. Why do you ask?]**

TO: Angel  
 **[My company has decided to limit our spending and I've gone grossly over budget. :( :( :(** **]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[Gosh, I didn't think they did that to actors at your level. If you don't mind the cramped space, you're welcome to stay with me till you find a place?]**

TO: Angel  
 **[!]**

* * *

When Yuuri cracks open the door, Victor spreads his arms wide, beaming. "My knight in shining armor," he proclaims loudly.

"Um," says Yuuri, glasses slipping down his nose in shock, "I thought you said you were coming tomorrow?"

"But I couldn't wait to live with you," Victor says cheerfully.

When the Russian hunter told Christophe about the new arrangement, his partner was disgruntled. ("You didn't mention my presence just so you could bang your half-demon boy?" the Swiss man grumbles. "I'd applaud your deviousness if you weren't throwing me under a bus.") Victor felt guilty for a total of two seconds, before he swiftly looked up some affordable bed-and-breakfast inn for Christophe – "Highly rated on Trip Advisor, Chris!" – and sent the man along his way with a bright wave. Then, wasting no time, he packed his luggage and raced over to the address Yuuri had provided, which is where he currently finds himself now, standing outside Yuuri's apartment, all ready to move in.

Victor's eyes rove down Yuuri's figure, noting the rumpled black T-shirt and the old gym shorts, its elastic so loose that it hangs on the man's hips, tantalizingly exposing a patch of soft skin.

Oh yes, he definitely couldn't wait to live with Yuuri.

"I, I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow, so I haven't cleared the um, the mess," Yuuri stammers, a flush spreading rapidly across his cheeks.

"That's fine," Victor smiles reassuringly, slinging a travel bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of his suitcase, "I know what it's like to live alone." He's about to walk through the door when Yuuri slaps a palm on the doorframe, halting him in his steps.

"One moment!" yelps Yuuri, before he slams the door in Victor's face.

Noises can be heard from inside the apartment, little bangs and crashes, and Victor listens to the sounds with amusement. He finds it so endearing that Yuuri cares this much about his evaluation of the apartment. The Japanese man could live in a cave with blood-sucking vampire bats and Victor would still move in with him in a heartbeat.

Finally, the door reopens to reveal Yuuri again with a sheepish smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he says, stepping back. "Please come in."

Nodding, Victor tugs his suitcase in with him. There's a small rack of shoes to the side, and in front of him is a raised step that leads further into the apartment, a pair of fuzzy pink slippers sitting on top. Yuuri walks past him then, and it's when the other man lifts a foot to step onto the raised level that Victor realizes: he's barefoot.

"I'm not sure if you do it in your culture, but we take our shoes off before entering the house in Japan," Yuuri explains, crouching down to adjust the slippers so they're in line with each other. "I don't usually wear slippers inside, but the floor in the dining room can get pretty cold so… sorry about the color."

Victor's heart swells at the thought of Yuuri taking out these slippers just for him. The Japanese man has unknowingly reminded him of his own warm _tapochki_ at home in Russia, and he loves the sensation of associating that word with Yuuri: _home_. "Nonsense," he says, making quick work of removing his shoes so he can slip his feet into the fuzzy material, "I love them."

The shy smile Yuuri flashes at him makes Victor tingle with happiness.

It's a cozy apartment, just perfect for one, maybe a little tight with two. (But Victor is certain they can make it work, of course.) Yuuri seems to have taken a minimalist approach: the living room has nothing but a flat-screen TV on the floor, a low, square-shaped coffee table, two legless floor chairs, and a short bookshelf, while the dining room holds the kitchen stove, a simple wooden table, and four chairs. The white walls in both rooms are completely bare; Yuuri didn't even bother decorating it with posters or artworks.

Victor wonders how Yuuri could have possibly made a mess with so few belongings.

"Quick tour," Yuuri announces as Victor sets down his luggage in a corner of the living room. "That's where we'll eat," he gestures at the dining room. "That's the bathroom," he twists to the side. "Here's where we'll rest, relax, and sleep," he finishes, sweeping his hand over to the living room.

At Victor's nod of acknowledgement, Yuuri crosses the living room and slides open a door at the end of the room. "This is where you can find the _futon_ for sleeping," he points at the thick, folded mattress-looking objects tucked neatly on the bottom shelf. "And this is where clothes go," he adds, pointing to the top shelf containing clothes on hangars. Victor picks out the side of a familiar trench coat, peeking out behind the other garments, before the other man slides the door shut.

"Any questions?" Yuuri asks, turning round.

"Several," Victor says, lifting a foot. "First, what kind of flooring is this?"

"Right, you probably don't have that where you're from. It's called a _tatami_ mat; it's more comfortable to sleep on than a regular wood floor."

"And a _futon_ is a mattress of sorts?"

"Mattress and covers." Yuuri bends over to tap on the coffee table. "When I'm ready to sleep, I shift this and the chairs to the side and lay out the _futon_. After I wake up, I stow it in the closet and shift the chairs and table back."

"Wow," says Victor, eyes sparkling, "This is all so new and _fascinating_."

Yuuri laughs softly. "I hope it's not too overwhelming."

"Not at all! I just have one last question."

"Sure."

"Where do you keep your weapons?"

Yuuri blinks, before a smile spreads across his face, and he gestures for Victor to move aside. Silently, Victor obeys, watching with curiosity as the other man sinks to his knees. There's a scant few seconds in which Yuuri runs a finger down a patterned border, before – to Victor's astonishment and absolute thrill – he drives both palms down onto the edge of a mat with such force that the other end flips upwards like a see-saw.

"Most people don't use the storage unit under their mats anymore, so no one would think to look in here," Yuuri says as Victor steps forward to peer into the opened space. "You can stow your bow in here if you'd like." Lying inside is indeed the extraordinary-looking spear, long and sharp, a grinding stone, presumably for sharpening the spear's blades, and pads of papers with Japanese writings lined up in the corner.

"You're just full of surprises," Victor breathes, feeling his cheeks warm with excitement.

Yuuri blushes ever so prettily.

* * *

After Victor takes a shower – which Yuuri has to demonstrate the use of after the Russian man nearly scalds himself turning the wrong knob – he helps Yuuri to shift aside the furniture to make way for the Japanese-style mattresses, observing with anticipation as the smaller man carefully lays out the first _futon_ across the mats.

It's going to be their first night together, with Yuuri's slender body right next to his, shirt riding up, and warm breath against his –

Victor's eyebrows shoot past his bangs when Yuuri spreads the second _futon_ some distance away from the first.

"What are you doing?" he asks before he can stop himself.

Yuuri looks up, eyes wide behind the lenses. "Um… laying out the _futon_?"

"Yes, but they're not…" Victor lines up his forefingers together.

Almost instantaneously, Yuuri's face flares a bright tomato red, glasses fogging up from the heat of his flush. "I, I, I'd rather we sleep apart!" he chokes out, backing away with the _futon_ so quickly that his back hits the wall behind with a resounding smack.

"Why?" Victor says with a pout, "I was so hoping we'd sleep together."

Yuuri freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Ah, I mean, the act of sleeping," Victor adds, belatedly realizing what he just said.

Unfortunately, Yuuri doesn't seem to have registered the correction. A strange sort of calm falls over the Japanese man, expression going blank. Then mutely, he smoothens out the _futon_ near the wall, turns off the lights, and clambers into the mattress.

All while Victor is left standing at the side of the living room, stunned by the sudden turn of events.

"Yuuri?" the Russian man ventures after a moment.

Dead silence.

Sorrowfully, eyes still adjusting to the darkness, Victor feels about on his hands and knees for his _futon_ , before slipping under the covers.

Lesson learned: push Yuuri too far and he shuts down.

* * *

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[Victor, where the hell are you?]**

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[Victor! We need you back here!]**

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS YOU FUCKER ANSWER ME]**

"It's early for so many messages," Yuuri remarks.

Victor turns his phone over. "Just a random group chat. Nothing important." Closing his eyes, he rests his cheek on a fist, breathing in the delicious smell wafting from the stove.

Thankfully, Yuuri has recovered from last night. There was a brief moment earlier when both of them blurted out apologies in unison, Yuuri explaining that he tends to withdraw when he gets too overwhelmed with emotions, and Victor stating that he tends to speak without thinking. And then they shared a laugh and all was well again. (Victor never felt so relieved.)

Now, the angel is at the stove, humming occasionally as he cooks breakfast for two. Sitting at the dining table, Victor can't help but consider himself the luckiest man in the world. He's even more delighted when breakfast is served, revealing to be a traditional home-cooked Japanese meal of rice, pickled vegetables, egg rolls, and broiled salmon. A bowl of fragrant _miso_ soup is set down beside the small dishes, completing the meal perfectly.

"Sorry I don't have bread in the house," Yuuri says sheepishly as he hands Victor a pair of chopsticks. "I was going to get it this morning so you could have toast, but you came earlier than expected."

"No, please," Victor exclaims, snapping pictures of the meal with his cellphone, "I want to eat everything _you_ eat!"

Pulling up a seat across from Victor, Yuuri chuckles. "You might want to taste it first. Are chopsticks okay? I have utensils if you'd prefer – "

Victor reaches out to lay a hand on Yuuri's. (Blush count tally: 16.) "Chopsticks are just fine," he assures with a smile.

The meal is the most scrumptious food he's ever eaten, and it warms his heart to know that he manages to please Yuuri with his reaction, especially when he asks the other man for a second helping of rice. He will never get enough of Yuuri's modest, shy smile; in fact, every glimpse of it makes him crave it more and more, like a growing addiction with Yuuri as his drug.

After they've eaten, Victor insists on washing the dishes despite Yuuri's strong objections. It's the least he can do after everything Yuuri has done for him.

"Yuuri," Victor says over the running water, "Do you have an instagram account?"

"I do but I hardly post," Yuuri replies from the living room. Victor hears the rustle of fabric, and he keeps his eyes trained on the dishes, reminding himself that Yuuri probably wouldn't appreciate being ogled while changing in his own home. The last thing he wants is a repeat of last night.

"Can I follow you? I want to tag you in the picture of your lovely cooking."

"Sure, it's just my full name with a hyphen in the middle."

"One 'u' or two?"

"Two."

Drying his hands on a towel, Victor snatches up his phone to swiftly follow Yuuri's account, upload the picture, and insert the tags. He's eager to share his happiness with the whole world, and it quite literally will be the whole world, given his status as an international star. Within minutes, the 'likes' and comments section erupt with responses, just as Yuuri's phone starts buzzing urgently on the dining table.

 **christophe-ge** My bed squeaks, the floor squeaks, and the old man that runs the inn also squeaks. You owe me big, my friend.  
 **yuri-plisetsky** YOU ASSHOLE  
 **yuri-plisetsky** RESPOND TO MY DAMN MESSAGES  
 **phichit+chu** omg so married (＊≧▽≦）

"I hope that's not my client cancelling," Yuuri huffs as he runs into the room to grab his phone, "Sometimes they decide they don't need an interpreter at the last minute." His dress shirt is blue this time, a shade lighter than his coat, matched by a pair of chic black slacks. Black is Yuuri's color, Victor decides, eyes dropping down to follow the curve of a firm behind as the other man turns round to answer the call.

"Hello – " Yuuri barely places the phone to his ear before he jerks away, eyes wide. Even from across the table, Victor can hear something high-pitched and shrill on the other end. Tossing Victor an apologetic look, Yuuri walks to the living room, replying to the caller in Japanese, phone still held about an inch away from his ear.

Victor surmises that it must be an overly excited client, but his guess turns out to be wrong when Yuuri suddenly rushes back into the dining room, eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. "Take off the tags!" he yelps frantically, "Take them off right now!"

Victor blinks. "The tags?"

"On your instagram post!"

"Why?" Victor says, cocking his head to one side in bewilderment.

Yuuri sticks a hand in his hair, looking as though he's about to yank out tufts of the black strands in his panic. "Hash tag domestic bliss? Hash tag luckiest man alive?" he gasps. "You make it sound like we're newlyweds!"

"But that's the point," Victor beams proudly.

There's a pause as Yuuri gapes at Victor, hand still in his hair.

Vaguely, Victor catches his name being called several times on Yuuri's phone. Yuuri must have heard it too, because he snaps out of his trance, slams his phone down on the table, and taps on the speakerphone icon. "I need to do a last minute check on a script for work," he says, hurrying back to the living room, " _You_ explain it to her."

"Who's her?" Victor calls after Yuuri.

"Yuuko, my childhood friend!"

"Um," says Victor in the silence that follows. There's a sound of papers being riffled through hurriedly in the next room. Clearing his throat, Victor puts on his most charismatic voice for fans. "Hello, Yuuko," he drawls.

"O-Oh my god," breathes a female voice on the line, her English slightly lilting in a Japanese accent. "Victor Nikiforov? For real? The _actor_ Victor Nikiforov?"

"Yes, this is Victor speaking."

The only reply is the loud sound of something falling heavily to the ground.

"Yuuko?" Victor says hesitantly. "Are you all right?"

"She probably just fainted, I'll call her back later," Yuuri says with a sigh, striding back into the dining room with a briefcase in hand. Swiping the phone off the table, he slides it in the back pocket of his slacks, and Victor finds himself feeling envious of a damn mobile device. "I have to run, but I'll meet you back here for a mission tonight?"

Victor perks up, eyes shining. "A mission?"

"I was going to tell you about it before this whole commotion with Yuuko," Yuuri smiles wryly. "You're still up for it, right?"

"Of course."

"Great, I'll see you tonight then. Thanks again for doing the dishes." Yuuri has just rounded the corner to the entranceway when his head pops back, a frown on his face. "Also, _take the tags off_."

Pouting, Victor swipes at his phone to access the application. "Fine."

He conveniently forgets to remove '#domesticbliss'. Just because.

* * *

"We'll have to meet our contact first, which works out great since you'll need new weapons."

Victor has just pulled on his standard grey T-shirt and black pants for hunting assignments, when his gaze is instantly drawn to the curve of Yuuri's bare back, the lean muscles rippling before disappearing under the leather material sliding over them. Up close, Victor realizes that Yuuri's battle wear of choice consists of not one, but two pieces of leather garments: a sleeveless V-neck vest and pants. The fabric hugs a sinfully taut body, clearly accentuating every line and curve. The hunter's mouth goes dry as he watches Yuuri zip up the vest, wondering how it would feel to pull that same zipper down with his teeth.

So much for not ogling Yuuri in his own home.

" –tor, are you listening?"

Victor smiles beatifically. "I'm sorry, what?"

As Yuuri slips into his trench coat – Victor mourns the loss of those toned arms from view – he laughs, shaking his head. The mess of black hair has been artfully slicked back, adding a sense of rakish sensuality to Yuuri's appearance, despite the man's innocent claims that he's only doing it so he won't have hair falling in his eyes. (Yuuri also revealed, much to Victor's amusement, that the spectacles he wears in the daytime possess no degree and are his version of a Superman identity switch. How can one person be so dorky and so sexy at the same time?) "Never mind, you'll probably hear a repeat of what I just said from Seung-gil anyway."

"Seung-gil?" Victor asks as Yuuri opens the storage unit for their weapons.

"That's the name of our contact," says Yuuri, tossing Victor his bow and quiver of arrows. " _Youkai_ sightings are typically recorded by the Exterminator Society, but since I'm not a member and Phichit's a foreigner, we need a contact and Seung-gil's our guy."

"Would I still need my arrows?" Victor says, tugging on his leather jacket. "They won't work here, will they?"

"Take them with you," Yuuri suggests, replacing the mat carefully, "Seung-gil might want them in exchange. He's more interested in Western hunting methods than he wants people to believe."

"Seung-gil sounds like an interesting person."

"He is," Yuuri nods in assent. "Oh, and tie this to your quiver strap."

Raising an eyebrow, Victor takes a flimsy piece of paper from Yuuri, noting the crude ink drawing of a single closed eye on it. "What does this do?"

"That's just a precaution. Normal humans won't be able to see any object with that charm attached to it." Yuuri lowers his _sansetsukon_ to indicate a piece of paper tied tightly at the bottom of the top blade. "Saves us from having to explain why we're carrying weapons around at this time of night."

"Am I not a normal human?" Victor chuckles as he wraps the paper delicately round the strap of his arrow quiver.

"Hunt enough supernatural creatures and they rub off on you," Yuuri shrugs. Then, wielding his spear, he flashes an uncharacteristic smirk, and Victor shivers with unadulterated excitement at _finally_ seeing this side of Yuuri again. "Ready?"

"Always," Victor purrs in response.

* * *

Lee Seung-gil, also known as 'the contact', is the curator of a local history museum located in the far edge of town. It's a small enough museum with display items that the locals consider to be of little monetary value, so Seung-gil gets away with having virtually no security on the premises, effectively allowing the museum to be a base of operations for _youkai_ related activities.

Victor immediately grasps why Seung-gil was granted such special privileges when Yuuri leads him through the dark museum: the museum collections comprise of supernatural relics and artifacts, tools that a normal person may find eccentric enough to browse but certainly not to steal. He's amazed; as one who dabbles in the supernatural realm, Seung-gil has chosen quite shrewdly to hide in plain sight.

Reaching a heavy oak door at the end of the museum, Yuuri raps his knuckles in a rhythmic pattern against the wood.

"Come in," answers a quiet voice from inside.

It looks like a cramped office space, with books strewn across the floor and papers piled up on a large desk. Two men are seated in the middle, engaged in some sort of colorful card game with intense concentration. While one man is dressed in a well-pressed business suit, the other stands out with his dark skin and shiny, bronze armor, its surface covered from top to bottom with intricate patterns. On the side of his head, tilted at a jaunty angle, sits the green mask of a beastly face twisted in a ferocious expression.

"Are you _still_ playing Koi-Koi?" Yuuri clicks his tongue.

The man in armor looks up then, a wide smile brightening his handsome face. "Yuu~ri!" he says joyfully, rising to his feet. Victor recognizes the singsong quality right away. "You actually brought Victor Nikiforov? I thought you were joking!"

"Why would I joke about that?" Yuuri laughs, dodging as Phichit tries to throw his arms around him in a friendly bear hug. "Phichit, I told you, your armor has sharp edges."

"Aw, your healing abilities will take care of that."

"That's not what they're for – _Phichit_!"

Victor feels the side of his face twitch with irritation as Phichit manages to yank a shrieking Yuuri into his embrace – "Ow ow _ow_!" – before Yuuri slams a palm against Phichit's jaw, shoving the other man's head back, and the two start play-fighting like an old married couple. He knows Yuuri said they're only friends, but this seems to cross the boundaries of regular friendship. That, and Yuuri has never been quite as comfortable with him.

"Your jealousy is showing, Victor Nikiforov," snorts the other man. He's standing now, arms folded across his chest as he studies Victor with narrowed eyes. "So a world-class actor and model is also a demon hunter."

Victor nods, tearing his attention away from the _youkai_ exterminators. "Seung-gil, I presume."

"You presume right," Seung-gil smirks. He jerks his head towards Yuuri. "Gumiho said you need new weapons?"

"Gumiho?" Victor says, a fine brow arching, but Seung-gil is now circling him like a vulture watching over its dying prey.

"You're an archer," Seung-gil observes quietly; it's a statement, not question. "I never thought Western hunters had the sophistication for such an artful skill."

Victor bristles before he recalls Yuuri's words: Seung-gil may not be as disdainful of hunters as he portrays. "That's why I'd like some blessed arrows for the mission," Victor smiles charmingly, keeping a tight rein on his temper. Besides, it wouldn't do to offend the one person who could prevent him from joining Yuuri on a mission.

"Hmm," says Seung-gil, the stoic expression shifting into a pensive look. "And what will you give me in exchange?"

"These," Victor pulls out the arrows in his quiver, holding them up for Seung-gil to inspect. "They're coated with silver."

"What a stroke of luck," Phichit whistles at the side, "You've always wanted to study the properties of silver, haven't you?"

Shooting Phichit a wry look, Seung-gil takes the arrows and makes a concerted attempt at pretending to examine the tips, twisting them about idly.

Victor feels a hand on the small of his back and he turns to see Yuuri standing by his side. "Told you he'd be interested," Yuuri whispers, though all Victor can focus on is the comforting weight of Yuuri's hand resting above his jacket, "He just thinks it's beneath him to accept Western ways."

As if on cue, Seung-gil tucks the arrows under an arm, nodding. "They'll do," he shrugs nonchalantly, before beckoning towards Yuuri. "Walk with me to the supplies room, Gumiho. I have something I need to tell you."

Sighing, Yuuri trails after Seung-gil as the curator strides out of the office. "What is the Society up to this time?" the Japanese man asks before the door closes behind them.

"And then there were two," Phichit says with a grin. He saunters up to Victor and stretches out a hand. "Nice to finally meet you in person. I'm Phichit."

"A pleasure," Victor replies, grasping the offered hand with a firm shake.

"Yuuri tells me you know about his _youkai_ blood. That's a big step for my buddy."

"Is it?" Victor thinks back to the hesitation in Yuuri's face at the restaurant. "I'd imagine not too many people are receptive to the idea."

"'Not receptive' is putting it mildly." Phichit sweeps a stack of papers off the desk and flops down on the cleared space, crossing his legs. (Victor doesn't think Seung-gil is going to be too happy about that.) "How much did he tell you, exactly?" the Thai man asks, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands.

"That his _youkai_ side is a result of a family curse and that it comes out when his body is in a fight-or-flight response."

"And?"

"That's all I've been told."

Phichit's eyes soften. "…I see."

Victor frowns at the quieting of the other man's voice. "Is there something else I should know?" he asks, but Phichit has already hopped off the desk and pulled his cellphone out of thin air.

"Did Yuuri also tell you that I make money off my _adorable_ hamsters?" the Thai man chirps brightly, shoving a youtube video of tiny hamsters ambling about in tiny handmade suits into Victor's face. "Aren't they _cutest_ things you've ever seen?"

Accordingly, Victor gives polite compliments, smiling as Phichit shows him another video, but he knows a diversion when he's in one. Phichit isn't even being subtle about it.

So there's more to Yuuri's _youkai_ blood. That's just as well, thinks Victor, absently nodding every once in a while as Phichit starts describing the different hamsters in his little rodent family. He adores surprises, and he would never have fallen for an ordinary human, after all, not this hard. And now that they live together – hash tag domestic bliss – he will have all the time in the world to learn about the beautiful half- _youkai._

The door opens, before Seung-gil spots the fallen papers and yells blue murder at Phichit for messing up his filing system. ("You call that a filing system?" Phichit cackles while Seung-gil indignantly rears up to full height.)

Yuuri enters behind the curator, a subdued expression on his face, eyes cast downward.

Victor frowns, making a beeline for Yuuri. He definitely doesn't like that look on the other man's face. "What's wrong?" he asks softly, taking Yuuri by the elbow. "What did Seung-gil say to you?"

"It's nothing," Yuuri replies, gazing up with a smile that Victor knows all too well – the very same mechanical smile that he gives the rest of the world. "I have your arrows," he quickly adds, holding up said items, wrapped in a thick cloth, "All we need is a location and some information about our target and we're good to go."

"Yuuri," Victor says, tightening his grip on the other man's arm as he starts to turn away, "You'll tell me if something's wrong, won't you?"

A glimpse of sadness crosses Yuuri's face, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "I will," he says, and Victor learns then that his angel is a horrible liar.

* * *

 _"_ _Your next target is a lizard youkai in the northern part of the forest. It's been a real nuisance, feeding on hikers that venture a little too deep into its territory. Its rank has recently been raised to an A after it slayed a number of A-level exterminators. Sightings report that it's quite large, about twice the size of a crocodile. Other than that, it's play-by-ear as usual."_

 _"_ _What do the ranks indicate?"_

 _In disbelief, Seung-gil stares at Victor. "Did Gumiho not explain anything to you?"_

 _"_ _He probably did," Victor replies cheerfully to Phichit's sniggers and Yuuri's soft smile, "I just wasn't listening."_

 _Seung-gil drags a palm down his face in exasperation. "Ranks indicate the youkai's level of danger or threat posed to others, with D as the lowest rank and S as the highest. The same system applies to exterminators, with higher-level exterminators possessing stronger, more powerful abilities."_

 _"_ _What level are Yuuri and Phichit?"_

 _"_ _They've never gone through the tests to achieve a rank," Seung-gil shrugs._

Victor watches as Yuuri walks up front, blue trench coat stark in the darkness. "Does Yuuri usually lead in missions?" he asks Phichit next to him. The Thai man has somehow materialized a sword with a bejeweled hilt, holding it in a defensive stance as they move.

"Sometimes," Phichit whispers, "Especially on days like today when he's in a bit of a mood. He gets antsy for a fight when he's moody."

"He's been that way since his conversation with Seung-gil."

"I noticed. Any conversation about the Exterminator Society tends to bring him down."

"Why the Exterminator Society?"

"Shh," Yuuri shushes abruptly. His head turns, and Victor sees a flash of that gorgeous gold in the dark. "I hear something."

"Does it sound like a big, hungry lizard?" Phichit says, grinning.

"I don't know what a big, hungry lizard sounds like, but – _eight o'clock_!"

The blade of Phichit's sword sparks as the Thai man spins just in time to parry a sudden blow from above. A blurry outline of some beast flickers in front of Phichit, and something roars, echoing through the forest.

"Camouflage ability," Yuuri's golden eyes narrow. "How could reports miss that?"

"Little help here," Phichit yells, his armored boots scuffing in the dirt as he's pushed backwards by the invisible force.

Spinning his spear, Yuuri strikes at the air above Phichit. The heavy weight on Phichit releases with a scream, and the Thai man recovers swiftly, swinging wildly at nothingness with his sword.

"Two o'clock," Yuuri barks; Phichit whips to the right, throwing his sword up, sparks flying again.

"Do I smell extra tasty today or something?" Phichit complains.

Victor squints hard to make out the creature's flickering outline. It's transparent at best, invisible at worst – a nigh impossible opponent for an archer – but he's determined to make some contribution to the mission. It's his first mission with Yuuri, damn it. Stringing arrows to his bow, he releases them in rapid succession at the wavering form. He's rewarded by a howl of pain, before there's a sudden rustle of leaves, signaling the _youkai_ 's fast, slithering movement across the ground.

"Victor," Yuuri shouts.

Victor turns; the Japanese man has started running towards him, spear brandished.

"Yuuri?" the hunter tenses, reaching for another arrow.

" _Duck_!"

Without thinking, Victor obeys Yuuri's sharp command. Seconds after he drops to the ground, he feels a breeze of weaponry whistle through the air over his head, hears the creature's furious roar behind him. Then he looks up to see Yuuri glide over him in a graceful arc, the three segments of his spear – _segments_ , Victor thinks with a thrill racing down his spine – whirring back by silver chains to reform the full shaft. Victor rises up, watching Yuuri's blades slice at the seemingly empty air, sparking on impact and moving so fast that the motions are a blur.

The Russian man is stretching back for an arrow when a hand drops on his shoulder.

"Leave Yuuri to it," Phichit says, removing his hand to rest it on a cocked hip, "He needs the release and we'd just get in the way."

Victor pauses, before he nods slowly. It's hard to fight an opponent that can't be captured by the naked eye and Yuuri seems to be holding his own. "How can he see that creature?"

"That'd be his _youkai_ abilities. Heightened senses. Speed." Phichit's lips curl in a proud smirk. "Throw in his super fast regenerative abilities and he's pretty much your average overpowered fighter that everyone loves to hate."

Some distance away, coat flying, Yuuri is flipping backwards with the elegance of an Olympics gymnast, evading some invisible attack that rips deep furrows into the forest dirt.

"Why haven't you and Yuuri taken the tests for exterminator ranking?"

"Overrated,' Phichit snorts. "Yuuri's skills are way over S-level, hands down, and I'm a Yaksha, so that speaks for itself."

Victor tilts his head. "A Yaksha?"

"Yep. I come from a family line of Yaksha, which are like Thai guardians, sort of, blessed with powers by the deities to protect the good and the righteous."

"Is that the real reason you're here?" Victor asks quietly. "To protect Yuuri?"

Phichit blinks. "I guess you could say that," he murmurs after a while, "Not that he needs it."

Simultaneously, both men turn their gazes to Yuuri who has leapt up and driven his spear downwards into the ground.

The scream is piercingly loud this time, and the _youkai_ finally makes its appearance, writhing round Yuuri's blade. At least reports are accurate on the size, with the reptile-like creature spanning at least 30 feet, its massive claws carving grooves in the dirt with its agonized thrashing.

Withdrawing the blade, Yuuri thrusts down a second time, straight through the _youkai_ 's head. With a final howl, the wretched creature swells and swells like a balloon, before bursting into little glitters of light.

When Yuuri turns back to smile radiantly at Victor, cheeks flushed with triumph and gold eyes gleaming, surrounded by sparkling white lights, Victor cannot help but fall for his beautiful angel all over again.

* * *

" _Victor_."

"But you were such a sleeping beauty with your wet hair, and your serene face, and the way you curled up on the covers – "

"…"

"… fine, I'll take off the tags."

" _All_ of them."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

Extra

 _tapochki -_ indoor slippers

Koi-Koi is a card game in Japan/Korea that's played with Hanafuda cards. In Korean, the cards are called Hwatu. (Summer Wars, anyone?)

I just love the idea of Phichit and Seung-gil constantly playing Koi-Koi in their free time. Like they'd both get super competitive and just keep taking turns at beating each other and getting upset about it.

Also, I took some creative liberties on the abilities of Yaksha. :D;


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes:** A lot happens in this chapter. A LOT. Also, please note that the next update won't be for a while as I'm descending into finals hell for the next few weeks. _

_As always, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!_

* * *

Victor does a quick sweep of the tiny room. There's just enough walking space around the bed for one average-sized adult to cross to the bathroom and to the front door, a small desk against the wall, and a little window above the side of the bed. Even Victor, who's had his share of budget business hotels before his big break in the acting/modeling industry (and Yakov's unlimited spending account), feels a tad claustrophobic.

"At least breakfast is provided," the Russian hunter concludes.

"While _you_ get to enjoy your sleeping beauty's home cooked meals and comfy apartment," Christophe drawls, sprawled across the bed, tendrils of smoke drifting from the end of his cigarette.

"You got me a good flow of photo shoots and runway gigs." Victor sits on the edge of the bed, listening warily to the creaking sounds that emerge. "Why not move to a nicer inn?"

"My girls are more important," Christophe blows a ring of smoke upwards. "How about finally taking me on a _youkai_ hunt?"

"Fine. I'll ask Yuuri if you can join us on the next mission."

"Is this how it works now?" Christophe grins. "Buy one demon hunter, get a sexy _youkai_ exterminator for free?"

"You're not _getting_ a sexy _youkai_ exterminator," Victor corrects, "Just the privilege of his sexy presence."

"Lucky me," Christophe snorts.

It's been months since Victor moved in with Yuuri, and it has been the happiest, thrilling, most _frustrating_ time of his life. Every day, he learns something new about the Japanese man: how Yuuri is an irate (but adorable) grump for the first half hour of every morning, how his hair sticks up in every possible direction before he combs it down, how he eats his favorite food last, how he loves cold chocolate milk after a bath, how his nose wrinkles when he does that sweet, light laugh… really, Victor could write an entire book on his angel, and he hasn't even touched on the man's battle quirks, which is a whole other book on its own.

In battle, Yuuri is formidable, assertive, and downright _vicious_ even. Victor's not sure if it's the _youkai_ blood or Yuuri's use of fights as stress relief, but the Japanese exterminator is merciless with his kills, swinging out his staff sections and striking at targets with cold, brutal precision. And then there's the way he takes command, like an experienced sergeant barking out orders on the war front. Whatever the reason, the gap between Yuuri in battle and Yuuri at home only heightens the electrifying sensations Victor feels in Yuuri's presence.

Now if only Yuuri would just put their damn _futon_ s together.

"By the way, I've been getting messages from Yuri about needing us back home. Russian Yuri," Victor adds when his partner quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Well that's going to be confusing." Christophe stretches over for his cellphone in the corner of the bed and taps at the screen a few times. "I haven't received anything from him."

"He stopped sending you messages after you kept replying in innuendos."

Christophe's teeth flash, cigarette dangling between his lips. "Can I help it when he has the best reactions?"

Victor laughs. "Fair point."

"So what'd you say to him?"

"Nothing. I haven't responded."

Christophe makes a disapproving grunt. "You'd better respond, Vic," he warns, "You know how Yuri can get when he's pissed off."

Victor shrugs. "He's a whole ocean away. What's the worst he can do?"

Holding the cigarette, Christophe exhales. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

FROM: Angel  
 **[That's so nice of your partner to come visit.** **(*^-^)** **We actually just got a mission for tonight, so he can join us if he's ready.]**

TO: Angel  
 **[Thank you, Yuuri!** **Remember: you have my permission to cut off his balls if he touches you in a bad place!** **]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[Um okay]**

TO: Angel  
 **[Oh, one another thing!]**

TO: Angel  
 **[Does Seung-gil stock blessed bullets?]**

Yuuri gawks at the huge arsenal of guns spread out on a mat on the floor. "How did you get all that past airport customs?"

"Trade secret," Christophe winks, spinning a pistol round a forefinger.

Unsure of what they might face, Christophe had decided to bring his most beloved selections of his 'girls': favorite pistols, shotguns, automatic and semi-automatic rifles, and even a number of small grenades. It seems that Eastern exterminators hardly dabble in such weaponry, because Phichit and Yuuri reacted with amazement when the Swiss hunter laid out rows and rows of his firearms across the mat.

"Holy shit," Phichit picks up an assault rifle, twisting and turning it about with delight, "I've never held one of these, like, ever. Can I try it out?"

"Be my guest."

"Fire that gun in my office and I will break every bone in your body, Chulanont." Entering the office, Seung-gil flings a large pouch at Christophe, lips curling in contempt. "Here's your bullets back, hunter. Try not to waste them; I refuse to spend any more of my energy performing rites on your crude weapons."

Victor looks up from scanning an ancient book of magical tomes on the desk. " _You_ blessed them?" he asks incredulously.

"Seung-gil's also a priest for one of the local Inari shrines," Yuuri says, hiding a smile behind his hand, while Seung-gil scowls darkly. "He performs the daily prayer rites every morning."

"Not that he looks the part," Phichit sniggers, swinging the rifle and testing its weight.

"Put that down before you blow someone's head off," Seung-gil snatches the gun and throws it haphazardly to the mat with a loud metallic noise.

"Watch it!" Christophe yelps in horror. "That's a circa 1949 AK-47!"

"And a third of my hard earned cash," Victor quips, enjoying the sound of Yuuri's responding laugh.

"Your next target," Seung-gil starts over Christophe's soft cooing at the assault rifle, "Is a bird _youkai_ that has been terrorizing the locals and killing any unfortunate idiot who wonders into its territory _._ C-level ranking, not much report on its abilities... though one does mention something about some kind of wailing."

"Like a banshee?" Victor cocks his head curiously.

"We've had our share of banshees," Christophe notes as he delicately sets the rifle back on the mat.

"You'll find that _youkai_ have a larger and more nuanced range of abilities than your backward demons," Seung-gil sniffs, his disdain for Western hunting on full display tonight. "Isn't that right, Gumiho?"

"I've never met a demon, so I wouldn't know," Yuuri coughs awkwardly, shooting an apologetic look at Victor. The Russian hunter smiles reassuringly in return; how very endearing of Yuuri to be considerate of his partner's feelings. (Honestly, Christophe could take monkey feces to the face and not bat an eyelid.) "Where can we find the target?"

"Somewhere near the abandoned hospital on the west side of town."

"We're probably going to need the Sweepers then," Phichit points out.

"Already alerted them," Seung-gil says, before nodding at the mat of firearms with a black look. "Now get your boorish shit out of my office and go do your job."

* * *

"What are Sweepers again?"

"They're like a group of janitors that clean up any destruction left behind in missions. Can't have regular folks asking why the roads and buildings have giant holes in them."

Victor beams in admiration. "Japan thinks of everything!"

"They're very organized that way." Phichit shoots the Russian man a sidelong glance. "So Christophe's your partner, huh?"

"Hunting partner," Victor specifies, turning his gaze to Christophe. The four of them are walking around the perimeter of the hospital, searching for their target, and somehow Christophe and Yuuri have managed to gravitate to each other. The Swiss hunter is engaged in conversation with Yuuri, gesturing at the guns strapped to his waist and back while the smaller man nods, eyes alight with interest. There's a slight jab of envy – if only his hunting skills also held Yuuri's fascination in that manner.

"So long as that's all there is to it," Phichit shrugs.

"Chris and me?" Victor laughs at the absurdity of the idea, "The man's a walking STD."

"I heard that," Christophe says up front, amusement oozing out of his voice. "At least I'm not being blue-balled with my greatest fantasy sleeping in the same – "

" _Thank you_ , Chris," Victor cuts in hurriedly, as Yuuri casts a curious look at him. It's a good thing his angel has the observational density of a thick brick.

Phichit, on the other hand, sports a knowing smirk. "So… blue-balled, huh?" he says, dropping his voice to barely a whisper.

"It's not – "

And then, in that next moment, something _shrieks_ into Victor's consciousness, sharp and piercing and so _intense_ that he's driven to his knees, clutching at his head in pain.

"Fuck," Christophe swears, " _Definitely_ nothing like a banshee!"

"Above us!" Phichit grits his teeth and, with shocking doggedness, musters enough strength through the pain to throw his sword upwards.

There's another shriek, externally this time, and the noise in his mind begins to fade. Ears still ringing, Victor glances up see a phoenix hovering in the sky, its beak wide open as it releases another loud screech. The bird is a magnificent sight, its massive body covered with gold and red feathers, shimmering in the moonlight. Long tail feathers glide gracefully behind as the creature flows through the air, slow and measured.

The sword reappears in Phichit's hand, and the Thai man whirls on Christophe, who is picking himself off the ground, shaking his head. "You and Victor have the best weapons for this _youkai_ ," Phichit instructs sharply, "Make sure to kill it before it recharges its psychic ability."

"Roger that." Tearing a rifle off his back, Christophe releases the safety catch and starts firing rounds of shots at the _youkai_ , the rapid bursts lighting up his side profile in the darkness. "Not that I know anything about Japanese folktales, but isn't that bird supposed to symbolize prosperity or something?" he shouts over the phoenix's screams of rage, "I feel like we'll get some karmic retribution for this!"

Victor can't tell if Christophe's question is directed at him or not, but he couldn't care less: his attention is entirely drawn to Phichit as he rushes to Yuuri further down the street.

By now, the Japanese exterminator would have recovered from whatever surprise their target has thrown at them and initiated a counterattack, silver blades carving death in their path. This time, however, Yuuri looks as if he's still reeling on his hands and knees, spear lying forgotten by his side. Even the typically chipper Phichit is murmuring in Yuuri's ear with a frantic expression on his face.

 _Something is wrong with Yuuri._

Mind brimming with worry, Victor is about to run to the other man when someone tackles him, sending him crashing to the hard concrete. A gust of wind sweeps above, ruffling his silver hair.

"If you don't mind," Christophe drawls close to his ear; Victor catches a glimpse of the phoenix _youkai_ 's tail feathers, the creature soaring back up into the sky for another dive, "You can stare at your boy _after_ we've toppled the angry bird."

"Sorry, it's just…" Victor looks into Christophe's disapproving face and inhales deeply. Phichit left them in charge of exterminating the _youkai_ and he's not helping Yuuri by being distracted. Shoving Christophe off, he rolls to his feet and strings arrows to his bow with fierce determination. "Let's do this, Chris."

"That's more like it," Christophe's lips curve as he switches his rifle with a shotgun.

They work well as a pair with their offensive strategy of straight-up relentless attacking: Victor firing off arrows when Christophe reloads and Christophe covering for Victor with his dead-shot aim. Their usual strategy appears to be working, as the bird's movements grow less graceful, its screams sounding more pained. It becomes clear through the fight why the phoenix is only ranked at a C; its massive size and slow speed make it an easy target. As long as they keep this up, Victor thinks triumphantly, as long as neither he nor Christophe run out of arrows or ammunition, they can claim victory over the _youkai_ , and he can finally, _finally_ return his full attention to his ailing angel.

Unfortunately, Murphy's Law applies even in the supernatural realm.

Flapping high into the sky, the phoenix spreads its wings, feathers bristling.

"Watch out," Yuuri calls – weakly, Victor notes with alarm – "It's going to – "

The shriek that reverberates through his mind somehow feels worse than the last.

Collapsing to the ground, vision turning almost white with agony, Victor thinks he hears another scream mixed within. Then, as suddenly as the pain started, reality surges back to him, and Phichit's grabbing him by the arm, hauling him to his feet.

"We have to get out of here," Phichit says, eyes hard as steel.

"What? But the _youkai_ – "

" _We have to get out of here_ ," Phichit says again. Something in the man's voice makes Victor feel he should obey. Snagging the collar of Christophe's denim jacket, Victor drags his stunned partner with him as the three of them make a dash towards the hospital, away from the open streets.

"Why are we hiding?" Christophe demands once they've thrown themselves through the front doors of the hospital, "Victor and I were so close to slaying that thing."

"Trust me, that's the last thing you want to worry about now," Phichit mutters. Pieces of thin papers materialize in his left hand and he heads to the closest window to peer outside.

For a while, the _youkai_ 's distinct screeching grows louder and louder, punctured by something that sounds disconcertingly like multiple knives ripping through flesh. And then, abruptly, it stops.

After so much noise, the silence is almost deafening.

As Victor looks around them, his mind finally clear of the high-pitched buzzing, a sudden realization chills the adrenaline in his blood into cold horror.

"Phichit," he says quietly. "Where's Yuuri?"

As if on cue, the window by Phichit shatters, and there's a flash of familiar gold in the darkness.

* * *

It's not Yuuri.

It can't be Yuuri.

Yuuri's features are soft and kind, not hardened with cruelty, lips twisted into a dangerous smirk; Yuuri's stature is tall enough for him to rest his chin on Victor's shoulder, not tower over them with a suffocating aura; Yuuri's hands are gentle and delicate, not rigidly curled with black claws protruding in place of his nails.

And most of all – most important of all – his Yuuri's face wouldn't be covered with blood, the thick liquid dripping with an eerie _pit-pat_ that echoes through the abandoned building.

The creature that looks like Yuuri appears to be studying them quietly, claws flexing. That gold, the beautiful gold that has held Victor's fascination at first sight, now glows with a sinister menace as it roves about with deliberate languidness. When the intense gaze lands on Victor, the hunter can't decide if the pounding in his chest is a result of fear or deep, heated arousal, _especially_ when those eyes turn hooded, and a small, pink tongue darts out to lick salaciously at plush lips. He has only ever seen Yuuri display such raw sensuality in his darkest fantasies, and being "blue-balled" for the past month – hearing Yuuri's soft breathing so close, yet so, so far – isn't helping, either.

Yuuri is taking a step towards Victor when Phichit breaks the silence, snapping them out of their spell.

"Yuuri, buddy," the Yaksha coaxes gently, "You don't want to eat a Russian. They're tough and gamey, and you hate gamey meat."

The golden eyes slide to Phichit and slant to narrow slits.

In the time it takes for Victor to feel somewhat affronted, Yuuri has charged forward, leaping towards Phichit with lightning speed. Cursing, Phichit hurls sheets of papers at Yuuri, but the other man dodges them with ease, before slamming his claws into Phichit's armored chest and sending them flying out the window.

Stunned, Christophe turns to Victor in the quiet that follows. "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know," Victor grips his bow so tight that his knuckles turn white, "But we won't find out by staying in here."

As they sprint out of the hospital towards the sounds of fighting – how did the two manage to travel this far in such a short span of time? – Victor recalls Yuuri's sweet joy at hearing Victor's appreciation of his gold eyes, Phichit's unsubtle diversion from the truth of Yuuri's _youkai_ blood, and Phichit's desperate efforts to calm Yuuri in the middle of battle.

 _"_ _It really only surfaces when I'm pushing my body past its limits, like when I'm in danger or in pain..."_

The hidden truth behind Yuuri's words hits Victor then, and he curses himself for being so oblivious to all the signs. Of course, with Yuuri's heightened senses, the phoenix _youkai_ 's psychic shrieks would have caused the exterminator far more pain than the rest of them – pain that would have pushed the beast within him to the surface.

"Christ," breathes Christophe as they run past the body of what used to be the phoenix, torn to shreds and dashed across the street like some horrific road kill. "Is that what happens they get exterminated?"

"No," says Victor, putting on an extra burst of speed, "That's what happens when another _youkai_ gets to it first."

Christophe shoots him a piercing look.

Ahead of them, Phichit's parrying off Yuuri's ferocious attack, matching the half- _youkai_ 's swipes blow for blow. Each time the claws make contact with armor, a shrilling noise rings out, horrific as nails down a chalkboard. And each time there's a gap, Phichit would thrust another thin piece of paper at Yuuri, only to have it evaded or ripped apart by those same claws.

Watching the fight, Victor's battle-experienced mind swiftly forms two simple connections:

1) Whatever that paper is, _youkai_ Yuuri clearly doesn't like it.

2) If _youkai_ Yuuri doesn't like it, it must be the key to getting his angel back.

"We'll have to distract Yuuri so Phichit can get that paper on him," Victor turns to Christophe.

"That flimsy thing?" Christophe frowns. "You sure about that?"

"No, but it's all we've got."

It's a sign of their deep trust in each other that Christophe nods without further questions, yanking out a pistol from his belt with a cocky spin. Victor is grateful, truly, and he does trust Christophe to do the right thing, but he also feels the need to make one thing extremely clear. Clasping the gun barrel, the Russian hunter jerks it to the side for his partner's full attention.

" _Don't_ hurt Yuuri," Victor orders firmly.

"Fine but no guarantees." Christophe rolls his eyes, before he twists round to fire a shot above the fighting pair. "Hey, gorgeous!" The beautiful golden eyes flicker in their direction, flashing eerily, and Victor shivers at the mix of fear and excitement welling inside him. "How about taking _me_ on for a good time?"

There's a pause as Yuuri lifts his chin, as though contemplating the offer.

"Uh guys," Phichit says, blinking, "I think you're severely underestimating – "

It becomes painfully obvious what exactly they are underestimating, when Yuuri is suddenly nose-to-nose with Christophe in the blink of an eye, claws raised high in the air. (Victor realizes that they might also have been severely underestimating _Phichit_ ; the Yaksha's tendency to work as back-up in missions has clearly obscured his true capabilities.) In panic, Christophe's hand jolts forward, finger pulling back on the trigger –

" _No_ ," cries Victor, letting loose an arrow. Yuuri leaps away with a snarl, just as the arrowhead hits its mark, sending the pistol flying out of Christophe's hand.

Christophe barely has a chance to yell at Victor before Yuuri instantly returns to his now defenseless prey, smashing the Swiss hunter to the ground with such alacrity that Victor is unable to react.

" _Phichit_ ," Christophe roars, just as Yuuri's lips curl up to reveal sharp fangs.

"On it!"

Appearing in the timeliest manner, Phichit slaps a paper on Yuuri's forehead and claps his hands together to recite a foreign chant.

Victor winces when Yuuri releases an animalistic howl, frame blurring as the dark aura around him shrinks and expands with each passing second. The sight is so reminiscent of a demon being exorcised that Victor has to turn his gaze away, refusing to think of his angel as some creature to be put away from this earth. (If anything, he should be forever immortalized.) As the last traces of _youkai_ fade away, Yuuri's eyes finally dull to a soft brown and he slumps over Christophe in an unconscious heap.

"Yuuri!" Phichit and Victor yelp in unison, pulling the Japanese man off Christophe to examine him for injuries.

"Yep, I'm fine, no one worry about me," grumbles Christophe in the background.

"Is he all right?" Victor asks worriedly, brushing loose hair out of Yuuri's face, blanching at the feel of blood on his fingertips. Not his, Victor has to remind himself. Not his.

"He will be," Phichit nods, patting Yuuri's cheek with clear relief. "All he needs is rest and he'll be back to normal."

"Normal?"

A Japanese man steps out of the shadows, lips drawn in a nasty sneer. Dressed in a traditional _kimono_ and long hair drawn into a low ponytail, the man has his hands tucked in the long sleeves as he shuffles closer to them in his wooden clogs. "I would not call that creature _normal_ ," he continues, English lilting heavily in his thick Japanese accent.

"Stalking us again, Murase?" Phichit snarls, and Victor glances at him in surprise; he has never heard that tone of voice in the Thai man before. "Surely you have something better to do at this time of night."

"Oh but it is my job to monitor _youkai_ movements," says Murase, eyes darting down to Yuuri.

Instinctively, Victor drapes a protective arm round Yuuri, glowering, just as Phichit tenses visibly beside him. Now on his feet, Christophe saunters over to stand between them and Murase, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his jeans pocket. "In other words, you get off on stalking pretty boys like Yuuri here," the Swiss hunter drawls as he casually lights the cigarette.

"Say what you wish, hunter from the West," Murase's sneer broadens, "But you shall see soon enough. Death follows all _youkai_ , whether they have human blood or not."

"Yuuri is human with _youkai_ blood," Victor snaps, prickling with irritation.

"For now, hunter. For now." Murase turns and walks away, clogs clacking ominously down the street.

* * *

It's after Yuuri has been cleaned, clothed, and safely tucked in his _futon_ that Phichit sits them down to explain everything.

Though Yuuri's _youkai_ blood serves to enhance his fighting skills and abilities when released in controlled doses, what they experienced tonight was a full transformation of Yuuri's unsuppressed inner beast, brought about – as Victor suspected – by the pain of the phoenix _youkai_ 's psychic attacks. In that state, Yuuri is lost completely to his _youkai_ side – a savage and highly intelligent creature that enjoys killing.

"Not all fox _youkai_ are this bloodthirsty," Phichit clarifies, "But it wouldn't be a curse if all it did was give him a half-baked makeover with claws and fangs, would it?"

"So how long has this been going on?" Christophe asks, snapping his lighter at the tip of his cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Victor says absently while Christophe pouts.

"I don't know when he first turned, but he did mention training under some exterminator called Hisashi Morooka to learn how to suppress his _youkai_ side when he was eight." Phichit frowns, folding his arms across his chest. "The _youkai_ 's gotten stronger, though. I used to be able to physically beat the beast back in, but with the increasing speed and strength, it's nearly impossible to do that now. Just getting the charms on him is starting to be a chore."

"So the paper things – "

"Charms," Phichit repeats, lips quirking in bemusement.

"Charms," Christophe amends with a shrug. "What exactly do they do?"

"They seal _youkai_ away, typically into a vessel of sorts. In Yuuri's case, his body acts as the vessel so it banishes the _youkai_ back inside him.

"Makes sense." Resting his head on his hand, Christophe stretches out on the _tatami_ mat, white tank riding up to reveal chiseled abs. "You also said his _youkai_ side has gotten stronger?"

"Much stronger."

"Is that why that stalker said what he said back there?"

Phichit puffs up with anger, face twisting into a scowl. "Hideaki Murase is the head of the Exterminator Society in Saga and the biggest asshole you'll ever meet."

"I can believe that," Victor growls.

"But he's not wrong," Phichit admits, deflating as his eyes flick over to Yuuri. "The more Yuuri changes into his _youkai_ form, the more it's going to take over. Until, well…"

"We won't let that happen," Victor says, his back straightening. " _I_ won't let that happen."

Phichit flashes a smile at him so tinged with sadness that Victor feels his chest constrict. "Glad one of us is still hopeful," the Yaksha murmurs.

"On that delightful note," Christophe clears his throat loudly in the resulting silence, "Think I'll head back for a good smoke and some beauty sleep."

"I'll walk with you," Phichit offers. Eyes soft, he turns to Victor as he rises to his feet, armor clanking. "Take care of Yuuri for me, will you? And text me when he's up."

"I will," Victor promises, shifting closer to Yuuri's _futon_ to keep vigil until the other man awakens. He wonders what his parents would say if they found out that their only son and heir of the Nikiforov hunter legacy has fallen for a man who is slowly but surely turning into a full _youkai_. He wonders, too, what his fans would say if they knew his heart had been taken by someone who could _literally_ take his actual heart out with the black claws, all while those bright, gold eyes bore with fierce intensity into his - a thought that shoots up a combination of fear and _euphoria_ through his veins.

And then he wonders, also, what it would be like if Yuuri could access his inner _youkai_ 's lasciviousness.

But that can come later. First, he has to find a way to stop the transformation. Victor presses a kiss on Yuuri's forehead. First, he has to make sure his angel is all right.

* * *

One minute Yuuri was asleep, lying under the covers; the next, he's sitting upright, staring into space.

Fatigued and deprived of sleep, Victor practically jumps out of his skin when he returns from the kitchen, nearly spilling coffee onto the mats. He takes a moment to recover, before he sets the coffee mug carefully on the floor and drops to his knees beside Yuuri with a bright smile. "You're finally awake, my sleeping beau – " At the sight of Yuuri's gut-wrenchingly _despondent_ look, the Russian hunter halts immediately, smile falling.

"Did… did I hurt anyone?" Yuuri asks softly, and Victor feels his stomach twist painfully.

"You didn't hurt anyone," Victor reaches to take Yuuri's hands in his, "We're all fine."

"How can you be, after seeing – " Yuuri exhales shakily, squeezing his eyes shut as though trying hard to block out the images. "I can't believe this happened, in front of you, in front of _Victor Nikiforov_ …"

"Yuuri, I'm _fine_ ," Victor says firmly, "Would I still be here if I wasn't?"

"You're just being kind."

"I'm here because I want to be here. With you."

The brown eyes snap open, wide and welling with tears. "Why would you say that when you know what a monster I am?"

"Yuuri…" It's not an attractive sort of crying. As an actor, Victor has seen his fair share of pretty cries, with single tear tracks running perfectly down both cheeks. Even so, even with Yuuri's face contorting with emotion, forehead creasing in the most unsightly fashion, Victor's heart swells with affection for the Japanese man. Lifting Yuuri's hands to his lips, he kisses each of them tenderly. "You're not a monster."

Shaking his head, Yuuri lowers his gaze, bangs falling over his eyes. "You don't know what I've done. I've hurt people, innocent people."

"You weren't in control."

"But isn't that worse? I wasn't in control, and I may lose all control someday. The Exterminator Society has been trying to crack down on half- _Youkai_ for decades; the head of the Saga branch even said - "

"Murase's a piece of shit," Victor says serenely.

Yuuri looks up then, inhaling sharply. "You've met Murase?"

"Briefly."

"So he knows your affiliation with me," Yuuri's gaze drops to the covers again, tears falling anew. "This is a nightmare. I thought, at least, none of this would happen while you were here, but then it did, and now you're getting involved in things you shouldn't be involved in..."

"Yuuri," Victor squeezes Yuuri's hands gently, "Yuuri, look at me." When the brown eyes slowly, hesitantly pull up to meet his, Victor leans in close, dropping his voice. "When I first met you, I thought, what a painting. What a gorgeous, _captivating_ piece of art. If Helen of Troy could launch a thousand ships, you would've brought world peace; men would have fallen to their knees, overwhelmed, weeping over your unearthly beauty."

Yuuri blinks, fat droplets of tears rolling down his cheeks. "W-What are you - "

"Let me finish," Victor hums, resting a finger on Yuuri's lips. "It was at dinner that I realized: you weren't just another fighter with a pretty face. You're sweet, and kind, and generous... and you care so much. _Too_ much. So Yuuri," he squeezes Yuuri's hands again, "I don't care what Murase or anyone else might have said about you. And I don't care about what's to come. No matter what happens, you will always be, to me, the most beautiful angel to walk this earth."

For a beat, Yuuri just sniffles, bottom lip quivering, and Victor tenses. If romantic monologues won't work, there's really only one other move he has up his sleeve in his 'soothe a crying partner' repertoire – and it's the one thing he was storing for the _perfect_ moment.

This is definitely not that moment.

Then, to Victor's immense relief, Yuuri huffs out a tiny laugh. "You stole that last line from your movie, 'My Cheating Ex."

"You're well-versed with my movies, I see," Victor teases lightly, delighting in Yuuri's responding blush. "But I do mean what I said," he murmurs, cupping Yuuri's cheek, gently swiping away what he hopes to be the last of his angel's tears with his thumb, "You will always be exquisite to me, inside and out."

Yuuri trembles as he swallows nervously. "Even if... Even if I could really hurt you?"

"Even if you could really hurt me." The hunter kisses Yuuri's forehead and turns to pick up the coffee mug. "Go back to sleep. I'd like to catch a few winks myself."

As Victor pads to the kitchen to empty the mug in the sink, he assumes by Yuuri's silence that the other man has simply sunk back under the covers for more rest. The last thing he expects is for Yuuri to timidly call his name and defy all his expectations in one single question:

"Can we put our _futon_ s together? Just for tonight?"

Within seconds, Victor has his _futon_ shoved so fast and so close to Yuuri's that it bunches up from the sudden movement, bringing out Yuuri's startled but oh-so-sweet laugh.

They sleep together then, finally, with Victor's nose buried deep in the crown of black hair and Yuuri curled in Victor's arms, clinging so very tightly, as though he thinks Victor would evaporate away in his sleep. It doesn't resolve Victor's frustration by any means, but it counts as a giant step in their relationship, and Victor isn't about to complain.

Especially when 'just for tonight' turns out to mean 'every night from then on'.

* * *

It takes a while for life to return to normal – or as normal as it can go for two supernatural hunters – but Victor is amazed to find that he's actually glad when it does. For the first time, he looks forward to waking to the alarm every morning just for a glimpse of Yuuri's grouchy face and sleep-mussed hair. And he can't wait to return home after a shoot to Yuuri's warm presence and, if Yuuri's erratic schedule permits, a steaming hot meal waiting for him in the kitchen. It's all so routine and so very ordinary, and yet, Victor enjoys every minute of it. Perhaps normalcy isn't quite as bad as he thought.

Or, maybe, it has more to do with the fact that the Japanese half- _youkai_ still manages to surprise him every now and then.

Take now, for instance.

Victor can't quite recall how it happened. He was taking pictures of Yuuri on his cellphone – an apron with frills, his beauty was in an _apron_ with _frills_ ; thank you God and Katsuki mama – before Yuuri came at him with a spatula, yelling at him to delete the evidence. First they were running round the dining table, then there was an awkward scuffle over the table, and the next thing he knew, they were on the hard floor, Yuuri's body pressed hot and firm against his, stretching for the phone he held above his head.

All that delicious friction is a lovely surprise that sends a thrill straight down south.

"Got it!" Yuuri crows, ripping the phone away triumphantly, "One less fodder for Yuuko to… um…" Yuuri's voice trails off as it dawns on him the exact position they're in, seconds before his face blooms a fiery red.

Victor marvels at how the Japanese man still turns into an embarrassed mess over any contact between them. It's even more remarkable given that they've been cuddling under the covers for several nights now.

"I'm so sorry," Yuuri yelps, about to scramble off, when Victor grasps Yuuri's hips and yanking him back down. "V-Victor…?"

"Hmm?" says Victor, sliding a hand slowly up Yuuri's back, admiring the smooth curve beneath the ratty old T-shirt. It's not like he hasn't felt Yuuri's body before; on the contrary, with their _futons_ pushed together now, he spends every single night feeling Yuuri's hard muscles under his hands, Yuuri's warm breath against his neck, Yuuri's knee sliding up innocently between his thighs…

Okay, if Victor were to be honest, putting the _futon_ s together may have been the most torturous decision ever made. (And if he were really honest, he's more in danger of dying from sexual deprivation than from Yuuri's _youkai_ form.)

"The um…" Yuuri stammers, Victor's phone clattering to the floor beside them, forgotten, "The omelet rice is um…"

Victor rests his hand on the nape of Yuuri's neck and gently pulls the smaller man closer, pressing his forehead against Yuuri's. "I like my eggs well done," he murmurs.

Long eyelashes flutter against the blue spectacle frames, before the eyelids lower ever so slightly. ( _He's not resisting, he's not resisting!_ ) "It's going to be well _burnt_."

With a low chuckle, Victor's eyes dart down to Yuuri's lips, soft and parted. Yuuri's big secret is out in the open, they're happy, and they just had a little domestic chase scene worthy of a romantic comedy film: _now_ is definitely the perfect moment. "I'm good with well burnt," Victor purrs, leaning upwards, heart singing when Yuuri's eyes start to drift shut –

The doorbell rings, sharp and shrill.

Yuuri turns, but Victor grabs the small face in his hands, jerking the gaze back on him. "It's probably just the cable man again." Victor flashes his best smile, gratified that Yuuri returns it shyly. Victor moves to lean in again and –

" _Open the door, asshole_!" shrieks an all-too-familiar voice over the shorter, more staccato rings, signaling a rapid ramming into the poor, abused doorbell. " _I know you're in there_!"

Oh hell. There's only one person who speaks with such unpolished vulgarity.

"I don't think the cable guy speaks Russian," Yuuri says with a grin.

"Yuu~~ri," Victor whines when the warm body rises off him, loathing the cold air that sweeps in in its place. "If we ignore him long enough he'll go away."

"Clearly you know him so it'd be ruder to ignore him," Yuuri laughs softly, stopping by the stove to turn it off before heading round the corner to answer the door.

Dropping his head to the floor, Victor slaps a palm to his forehead with a loud sigh. Once the expected screaming begins - "Where the fuck is Victor! The coward sent you to open the door, didn't he?" - he rises reluctantly to his feet and drags himself to the entranceway, where a petite frame comes into view, the hood of a familiar tiger-print hoodie pulled back to reveal an expression of deep rage written across the otherwise pretty face.

" _You_!" shouts the tiny blond in their native language, jamming a finger at him. " _Why haven't you been responding to my messages_? _And_ _why the hell are you staying with this twerp_? _And – are you wearing pink slippers!?_ "

Eyes wide, Yuuri stares at them in confusion, unsure of how to react.

Evidently, Yuri Plisetsky is far more tenacious than Victor ever gave him credit for. (And he does so hate it when Christophe is right.)

" _How did you find me_?" Victor asks curiously.

" _Your instagram posts, dumbass. You left your GPS location on._ "

" _Damn_ ," Victor mutters under his breath.

"Victor?" Yuuri says, head tilting, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Victor says brightly, turning to Yuuri. "Yuuri, meet Yuri."

"What," says Yuuri, looking even more confused.

"Fuck no," Yuri snaps, switching smoothly to English, "There's only _one_ Yuri here and that's – "

"My angel over here," Victor cuts in, beaming as he wraps an arm round Yuuri and pulls the other man to his side. "Welcome to Japan, Yurio!"

" _I will cut you_ ," Yuri – henceforth, Yurio – snarls in Russian, taking a step forward.

"Yuri," someone rumbles behind Yurio then, low and deep, "Move."

A pair of red eyes glow dangerously, just as Victor spots the mouth of a gun barrel, trained on a spot between Yuuri's eyes.

"Otabek, wait – "

A loud cracking noise rings out and echoes sharply through the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for your patience, everyone! (*_*) I come bearing a new chapter and art!_

 _By kuhakukaien on tumblr: post/159680600376/half-youkai-yuuri-from-the-fic-you-only-live (golden-eyed Yuuri with his sansetsukon)_

 _By runesque on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies dot tumblr dot com slash post/159716029477/commissioned-the-amazing-talented-runesque-for (Victor's POV of Yuuri under the moon in Chapter 1)_

 _Show love to the wonderful artists, and as always, I hope you enjoy the chapter. :3_

* * *

"What the fuck," says Yurio.

Ducking down in a crouch, Yuuri's _youkai_ reflexes just barely managed to save him from getting his head blown open, but no one in the entranceway missed the bright flash of brilliant gold. Especially not Otabek who, pistol still smoking from the last shot, has already lowered the gun to fire a second time.

Otabek's inhuman speed seems to catch Yuuri by surprise – and that split-second freeze is all it takes.

At the sight of blood – the bullet piercing through Yuuri's shoulder, through his _angel's_ shoulder – Victor snaps out of the initial shock and jolts forward, throwing his body round Yuuri. "Yura," he hisses, grip tightening as he feels something wet and warm soak into his shirt, "Tell Otabek to back off _._ "

Otabek still has his damn gun trained on them. "That thing's not human _._ "

Victor's temper flares _._ "I swear to god, Yura, call off your guard dog before I – "

"Victor," Yuuri cuts in, voice muffled in fabric, "Victor, I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Victor snaps, pulling back, too terrified to lay eyes on the wound but knowing he has to access the damage, to clean the injury, to –

"What the _fuck_ ," Yurio says again.

There's a small hole in Yuuri's white shirt, charred and bloodied round the edges, with nothing but smooth, unmarred skin beneath. Victor looks down at the dark stain on his own shirt, feeling the bile rise in his throat. Yuuri had bled on him – _bled on him_ – and then just… _healed_.

All in a span of seconds.

"Regenerative abilities," Yuuri says with a sheepish smile, and Victor's filled with the sudden urge to kiss him senseless in sheer relief.

" _Told you he's not human_ ," Otabek says in Russian, gun rising again, before Yurio slaps his hand away.

" _Enough, Beka._ "

Otabek's pale face twitches imperceptibly. " _But_ – "

" _Whatever he is, he's clearly harmless,_ " Yurio scowls, " _Just_ _look at that fucking girly apron_."

"So um," says Yuuri, peeking cautiously over Victor's shoulder, gold eyes dulling back to a warm brown behind his glasses. "Will you be staying for dinner?"

* * *

Instead of omelet rice, which did turn out to be very well burnt, Yuuri pulls out his mother's famous recipe and whips up a wonderful dish he calls " _katsudon_ ". Victor doesn't think their cockblocking, angel-wounding intruders deserve such a luxury, but Yuuri is insistent, asserting that it's only hospitable to feed guests with proper food – as if he hadn't just been shot through the shoulder.

Then again, it might all be worth it just to see Yuuri's eyes sparkle with delight when Yurio lifts his empty bowl, muttering for seconds.

"You should try my mother's someday," Yuuri smiles, setting down Yurio's refilled bowl, "Hers is the real deal."

"And this isn't?" Yurio shovels a huge spoonful in his mouth like a tiny little barbarian.

Victor's lips curve in amusement. "Goodness, is that an actual compliment, Yurio?"

"Shut up," Yurio sprays rice grains across the dining table with vehemence, cheeks bulging, "No one asked you, asshole."

"Are you, um… are you sure you don't want anything?" Yuuri meekly asks Otabek, who shrugs as he tugs off his fingerless leather gloves and lays them neatly on the table.

"As a vampire, Otabek only eats raw meat," Victor points out as Yuuri's mouth forms a small 'o' of realization. "His coven has served Yurio's family as bodyguards for generations, and Otabek himself was assigned to Yurio when Yurio turned fourteen two years ago."

"What I'd like to know," Yurio pauses for a swallow, "Is what the hell _you_ are." He stabs the chopsticks in Yuuri's direction, lips curling. "The healing shit's one thing, but that gold. That gold was _unnatural_ , even for a demon."

"His aura is different, too," Otabek adds quietly, red eyes slanting. "I've never felt that kind of power."

Victor shoots Otabek a look of amazement. "You can feel his aura?"

Mutely, the vampire arches an eyebrow. Victor has worked with Otabek long enough to understand the demon's silent gestures. This one is saying, _why else would I try to kill him?_

"I didn't think demons could sense _youkai_ , that's all."

"Sense _what_ ," says Yurio, looking at Victor as though he has grown a second head.

"We have a long night ahead of us," Victor sighs dramatically, while Yuuri lets out a soft laugh.

* * *

They explain the phenomenon of _youkai_ to the pair, including Yuuri's half- _youkai_ blood. Victor notes that Yuuri leaves out the more tragic details of his family's curse, which might be for the best given Otabek's wildly protective tendencies. And to his surprise, even after all the missions, he discovers that he still has more to learn about _youkai_ in their little sharing session.

"So let me get this straight," says Yurio, crossing his arms. "Most _youkai_ are fundamentally good unless angered or exposed to negative human emotions?"

Yuuri nods. "Remember the phoenix?" he turns to Victor. "Chris was right about it being a _youkai_ that symbolizes prosperity; it just made a terrible choice of residing near a hospital. Too much death and loss corrupted its otherwise pure soul."

Victor's eyebrows rise past his bangs. One of those things is _not_ a surprise he enjoys. "'Chris'? You call him 'Chris'?"

"Um yes?" says Yuuri, blinking, just as Yurio slams his fists on the table.

"Even the pervert is here?" the blond hunter bares his teeth in a snarl. "You bastards better explain why you're hiding out here, when there's a vampire infestation going on back home."

"Victor's filming for a movie," Yuuri tries to explain, just as Victor chirps, sparkling, "Because it's so much more fun in Japan!"

Their heightened senses must have forewarned them because both demon and half- _youkai_ silently slip off their seats and back away from the dining table, seconds before Yurio _flips the table_ and makes a flying leap at the other hunter.

"Do vampires really drink human blood?" Victor overhears Yuuri asking while Yurio shakes him by the collar and screeches incoherently in his face.

"We require blood, yes, but not human blood. Human blood is to vampires like heroin is to humans."

"Oh. Is that why an infestation is so bad?"

"Yes, because that's usually when they gather to – "

" _LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU_ ," Yurio shrieks at a pitch that's a little too similar to the phoenix _youkai_.

"All right, you need my help with the vampires, I get it," Victor laughs, prying Yurio's fingers off his shirt before the teenager rattles his brain out of his ears. "But surely there must be other hunters available."

"That's not the point," Yurio snaps. "You _promised_ you'd help."

"Did I?" says Victor, before grabbing at the smaller hands that reach in response for his neck. (If Yurio has the tenacity to cross an ocean for some casual "promise", he might just find the strength to throttle Victor with his bare hands.) "Wait! I have an idea!"

Yurio withdraws with a skeptical glare. "You're finally going to keep your word for once and come back with me?"

"Well…" Victor's eyes dart to the living room, where Yuuri and Otabek are seated on the floor chairs, engaged in a quiet discussion about Western demons and the various exorcism methods. Yuuri looks positively adorable, leaning back on the _tatami_ mat with his legs stretched out in front of him, brown eyes bright with interest behind the fake lenses. They haven't taken on any missions since Yuuri's transformation, and while Victor understands that Yuuri needs time to recover from the trauma of turning, he's also itching to see Yuuri in battle again.

Judging by how relaxed Yuuri looks right now, guard down even in the presence of an armed vampire, it's time to kick-start Yuuri's battle spirit.

"I'll go back with you if you beat Yuuri in a fair fight," Victor announces cheerfully.

"Ex- _cuse_ me?" Yurio snarls, just as Yuuri turns to throw Victor a bewildered look. "It's the air here, isn't it? You've gone fucking mad because of the damn country air. Why should I have to fight your _katsudon_ boy just because you went back on your _promise_?"

"I agree," Yuuri says. ( _Oh_ , thinks Victor with elation, he's not denying a certain possessive pronoun in that sentence.) "Besides, it wouldn't be very fair considering I'm half- _youkai_."

Yurio whips round. "You think I can't beat you because of your demon half?"

" _Youkai_ ," Yuuri corrects automatically. "I just think – "

Stalking closer, Yurio leans up menacingly into Yuuri's personal space. "I bet I can beat the shit out of you with both hands tied behind my back."

To Victor's delight, Yuuri doesn't apologize or make any further attempts to explain his remark. Instead, the Japanese flashes an amused smile. "I'm sorry, but this is the kind of foolhardy attitude that's gotten hunters killed."

"That's _it_ ," Yurio barks, turning nearly purple with fury, "You, me; outside _now_."

"Oh I can't tonight," Yuuri rubs at the back of his neck. "I have an early assignment tomorrow."

Otabek snorts in the background.

"Right," says Victor, stepping between the two before Yurio can lunge for Yuuri. "Why don't we schedule Saturday night to be the battle of Yuri and Yuuri? The victor brings home… well, Victor!"

"Not funny, old man," Yurio growls, "But you're on. I'll see you Saturday, demon."

" _Youkai_ ," Yuuri says, but the younger man has swept round the corner to the front entrance.

Tugging his gloves back on, Otabek follows suit, the crisscross pattern of belts round his waist and thighs clacking against each other as he moves. He halts by Yuuri, red eyes flickering to the hole in his shirt. "Yuri's my first priority," he says quietly.

"I understand," Yuuri replies.

Otabek nods once, looking satisfied. Then, he's gone.

"That's the first time Otabek has ever apologized to anyone," Victor remarks as he heaves up the fallen dining table.

Yuuri returns to the dining room, frowning, "I don't think we should go through with this fight. I really do have an unfair advantage with my _youkai_ blood."

"That would be the point."

"What do you mean?"

Victor shrugs, piling up the bowls and chopsticks in the sink in preparation for his very important dishwashing role. "Our young Yurio needs to learn that he has to pick his battles, that he can't keep bullying people into getting his way. This is the perfect opportunity."

Yuuri comes up next to him, folding his arms across his chest. "But he said you promised to help him."

"Not that I can remember," Victor hums, turning on the kitchen tap.

"Victor," Yuuri says reproachfully. "Why didn't you just tell him you'd go back as soon as your filming was done?"

"Because then he'd have expectations and get impatient again." (That, and Victor's not actually here for a movie; bless his sweet, gullible angel.) "Besides," the Russian adds as he starts on the first bowl, scrubbing out rice grains and dried egg remnants under the running water, "It's also a good chance for you to dust off your weapon and get back on the field."

Yuuri's frown deepens. "What if the _youkai_ comes out again?"

"It won't," Victor states firmly.

"What makes you so sure? It's getting stronger and I'm – "

"Strong, Yuuri. Stronger than you realize." Victor leans in, reaching up to grasp Yuuri's chin, dripping water. "And I want you to remind everyone _just_ how strong you are."

Yuuri's eyes grow wide. Then, slowly, they soften, a smile touching his lips. "Fine. I shall fight for the honor of your continued stay in Japan."

"That's what I like to hear!" Victor cheers, sinking his hands back in the dirty dishes.

Shaking his head, Yuuri heads to the closet in the living room, rubbing at his wet chin with the back of his hand. Victor hears rustling as the other man removes the apron and rifles through his clothing.

"I'm doing the laundry tomorrow, so don't forget to add your shirt to the laundry basket," Yuuri calls out, "Blood's harder to wash out if you let it sit for too long."

Victor pauses in his washing. Amidst the tornado that was Yuri Plisetsky, he had forgotten all about the bloodstain on his shirt. _Yuuri's_ blood. And the nonchalance at which Yuuri talks about washing out blood from shirts makes it all the more unnerving.

Resting his elbows on the edge of the sink, Victor draws in a deep breath. "Yuuri?"

"Hmm?"

"How's your shoulder?"

"Good as new. Like nothing happened." Yuuri appears beside him again, a towel and sleepwear draped over an arm. "Something wrong?" he asks, concerned.

Victor turns, noting again just how captivating the Japanese man looks with his tousled hair and soft, brown eyes – an angel that shines even in crumpled home clothes.

Crumpled home clothes with a noticeable bullet hole in the shoulder area.

"Does it hurt?" Victor murmurs, reaching out hesitantly to caress the exposed skin, drenching Yuuri's shirt. " _Did_ it hurt?"

"It hurt when the bullet went through, but it doesn't hurt anymore." Yuuri lays a hand over Victor's, not caring in the least that his shirt is progressively getting more soaked. "You just gave a grand speech about how strong I was."

"I know," Victor chuckles, "I never said _I_ was."

"You, Victor Nikiforov?" Yuuri teases gently. "You've fought in world wars, leapt off airplanes, and driven burning race cars."

"Computer graphics and stuntmen." Victor grins. "You _are_ my greatest fan, aren't you?"

"Not as much as Yuuko." Yuuri flashes a shy smile. "But definitely a close second."

Victor's heart does an odd little flip-flop in his chest. God, he loves that smile.

"I'm going to take a bath," Yuuri pulls away then, "But we can talk more after? On our _futon_ s?"

"I'd like that," Victor smiles broadly in return.

* * *

Christophe clicks his tongue. "Seriously, _this_ is your emergency?"

"I needed your expert opinion," Victor states. He holds up a piece, inspecting the ribbons on the soft fabric. "What do you think of this one?"

Christophe shrugs, his foot tapping restlessly as he glances about the department store. Victor knows that his friend's undergoing some sort of nicotine withdrawal, needing a new stick every couple of minutes. The only time Christophe doesn't smoke is when he's hunting, the adrenaline distracting him from his cravings. "It's cute," the Swiss man says absently.

"I haven't killed you for earning Yuuri's affection yet," Victor smiles winsomely, "So the least you can do is help me pick this out."

"Are you still upset about him calling me 'Chris'?" Christophe guffaws. "He probably does that because he's heard everyone else call me that."

"How did you even get his number?" Victor asks, holding up a second piece to compare with the first.

"Phichit. I wanted to be nice and ask how he was doing. Apparently that's a crime now?" Christophe tosses a lazy smirk at a group of Japanese ladies hovering near the cookery section. The women titter excitedly among themselves.

"Punishable by death," Victor says over Christophe's responding laugh.

"All right, you madman, I'll limit my messages with Yuuri if it'll make you feel better." Christophe shifts his weight, agitatedly tapping his other foot this time. "Speaking of which, are you _sure_ you know what you're doing with the other Yuri?"

"Yes, this will be a valuable lesson for him." Victor lifts up a third piece, frowning. Heart shaped or shortened length; frills or ribbons; with or without a back – so many choices.

"I think you're underestimating Plisetsky's determination. The kid got on an airplane to an unknown land just to drag you home."

" _You're_ underestimating Yuuri's fighting abilities," Victor points out, just as a sales rep approaches them with a timid smile.

"Can I help you?" the sales rep asks in halting English.

"Oh, yes, uh…" Victor grapples for the vocabulary and sentence structures that he has been trying to cram into his mind with the help of Yuuri's Japanese language books. " _Looking for… M size. Black and sexy. Recommendations?_ "

The sales rep flushes in relief at discovering that he's able to speak her language. " _Certainly_ ," she chirps, " _I'll bring a few items you might like. Is this for your wife?_ "

" _Yes_ ," Victor beams.

As the sales girl hurries away to retrieve the products, Christophe raises an eyebrow at Victor. "Did she say the word 'wife', or did I hear that wrong?"

"You heard it right."

Christophe snorts. "Yuuri is one lucky man."

* * *

When informed, Seung-gil is surprisingly enthusiastic – as enthusiastic as the stoic curator can get – about the battle. It is he who suggests an open field close to his museum, even offering to set up a barrier of charms to make the space invisible to the normal human eye. Victor suspects that Seung-gil is excited to finally have tangible proof of the superiority of Eastern exterminators over Western hunters.

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Oh, one other thing.]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Make sure Chulanont's present.]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[To add to Yuuri's cheer squad?]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[What a brilliant idea, Seungie!]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[** **｡･** **:*:** **･ﾟ** **,** **｡･** **:*:** **･ﾟ** **very d(*⌒▽⌒*)b good** **｡･** **:*:** **･ﾟ** **,** **｡･** **:*:** **･ﾟ** **]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[…]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Just make sure he's there, hunter.]**

It's thus on Saturday that Victor sees Phichit in ordinary clothes for the first time, the Thai man opting for a casual look with his simple sun-colored T-shirt and skinny jeans. Without the clunky armor, Phichit is considerably smaller than Victor thought. The petite man is by Yuuri's side now, showing Yuuri pictures of his newly acquired hamster – Taeyeon, named after some female idol to piss Seung-gil off – both giggling, heads together, exchanging ideas for a new youtube video.

"I get death threats, but Phichit gets to make Yuuri laugh without consequence?" Christophe asks, cigarette dangling between his lips. "I call discrimination."

Victor grins. "I'm not comfortable with it, but they've been best friends for years. You, on the other hand, are a man who's had chlamydia."

Christophe exhales, the cigarette smoke framing his bemused expression. "Get an STD that _one_ time…"

"If you fucking perverts are trying to _horrify_ me into losing, it's not working," Yurio mutters darkly.

The blond teenager hefts a large, polished blade onto his shoulder, the weight of a weapon nearly twice his height pushing him into a slight hunch. (Christophe's many, _many_ innuendos about Yurio's efforts at compensation were not well received.) He's still in his tiger-print hoodie and sneakers, though he has traded his black pants for jeans, artfully sliced and torn at strategic parts of the denim material.

Observing Yuuri's battle gear from afar, the young hunter lets out a sniff of disdain. "Figures your demon boy would be into all that leather."

" _Youkai_ ," Victor says, even as he turns to admire _all that leather_ with sparkling eyes.

"Are you any different?" Christophe smirks, jerking his head at Otabek. "Your demon boy's got a leather jacket, leather pants, leather boots… and then there's the excess of kinky belts."

The vampire arches a thick eyebrow in response, thumbs hooked under studded belts in a relaxed pose. Yurio turns scarlet, spluttering. "I'm different because I don't _lust_ after my _bodyguard_."

"Why not? At your age, I would've bagged someone with Altin's looks faster than you can say, 'I'd hit that'."

Otabek snags Yurio's waistband in the nick of time, yanking the teenager back while he makes enraged, frenzied swings at Christophe with his giant weapon. "Leave Beka out of your filthy fantasies, you _sick_ bastard!"

"Hey guys," Phichit yells from the other end of the field, hands cupped round his mouth, "Yuuri's ready when you are!"

"Let's set up some ground rules first," Victor calls back, stepping out to the middle of the field and beckoning for the two fighters to join him.

"Fuck rules," Yurio shrugs off Otabek's grip and stomps after Victor, shooting Christophe a dirty look as he passes. "I say we go for a free-for-all death match."

"I'd rather not," Yuuri says as he joins them, face stricken.

"Why, scared of death?" Yurio sneers.

"Not in the way you think I am."

"Rule number one: this is a simple _sparring_ match," Victor swiftly begins before Yurio can respond. "First person to disarm his opponent wins."

" _What_ ," Yurio objects, while Yuuri visibly breathes a sigh of relief. "That's not – "

"Rule number two," Victor continues firmly, "No biting, kneeing in the groin – " both Yurio and Yuuri wince at the same time " – or any other underhanded tactic. And rule number three…" Victor spreads his arms wide, grinning. "Have fun!"

"Fun my ass," Yurio snarls, shoving Victor roughly to the side, before charging at Yuuri, blade held low to the ground, "Victor's coming home with _me_!"

With a flash of gold, the fight begins.

* * *

There's little technique to Yurio's fighting style. Relying solely on brute strength and sheer will power, the teenager's attacks land heavy blows that leave dents in the grass. The contrast can't be starker with Yuuri, who flits about like a dandelion in the wind, dancing nimbly away from Yurio with ease, yet showing no intention to attack.

"Is he teasing the kid?" Christophe chortles, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers, "Because it's clear who has the upper hand here."

"Yuuri's plan is to tire Yurio out," Phichit says, watching the fight with his arms crossed. "He's afraid of hurting him."

"Bad idea," Otabek notes in his quiet voice, "Yuri's getting pissed."

Mentally, Victor agrees with the vampire. On occasion, Yurio has surprised him with amazing feats in battle when fuelled by pure rage, and there's no telling what the boy will do this time. Judging by the contorted snarl on Yurio's face, dripping with sweat, the young hunter is nearing his anger limit.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at," Yurio hisses, as Yuuri dodges another heavy swing, "Fight me, damn it!"

"I _am_ fighting," Yuuri smiles sheepishly, stepping to the side to avoid a particularly vehement thrust.

"No," Yurio bows his head, blond hair falling over his eyes, "You're _looking down on me_."

With the sudden drop in Yurio's voice, Yuuri must have sensed danger. He leaps backwards, just in time for Yurio to swing up his sword, rest the bottom edge on a hand, and – _open fire_.

"What – " Even in his bafflement, Yuuri slides a foot back and lowers his center, spinning his weapon rapidly like the blades of a fan. The sudden rain of bullets bounces off the shield with sharp clinks, sparking with each contact.

"What is that," Phichit breathes above Christophe's low whistle.

"A gunblade." Victor's eyebrows knit in concern. That's an unanticipated factor. "When did he get the upgrade, Otabek?"

"When he made the decision to come here," Otabek says, red eyes glowing in the darkness.

" _Got you_." Soaring above Yuuri, Yurio's legs split wide open to accommodate the full overhead swing he performs, his large blade flying down on Yuuri's head.

Yuuri whirls round, a strange shadow crossing his face, before he flings himself to the side.

The gunblade slams deep into the spot where he stood seconds ago, Yurio swearing, just as Yuuri rolls to his feet and sends his _sansetsukon_ whirring out – spear snapping into three – silver chains winking with the lightning motion. Arching back in an impossible bend, Yurio barely dodges the blade as it slides dangerously past his neck, before snapping back to its original form in Yuuri's hand.

"I'm so sorry," Yuuri gasps then, clutching at his weapon, face twisting as though he were straining against some invisible force, "I didn't mean – "

" _Now_ you're taking me seriously," Yurio cackles, heaving his sword from the dirt to pull at the built-in trigger, firing indiscriminately at Yuuri. Instantly, the Japanese exterminator's face slides back into a shadowy expression, before he breaks into a blurred sprint down the field, bullets tracking his path.

"Phichit," Victor says quietly. "Did Yuuri just…?"

Phichit's fingers are digging deep into his arms, marking little indents in his skin. "He did. Bullets are a novelty to us; all that excitement must be making it harder for Yuuri to suppress the fox."

"His power is surging." Otabek's hand slides to the holster on his side.

"Down, boy." Christophe casts a glance at Victor. "Let's not be hasty."

On the field, Yuuri changes course abruptly, darting straight for the young hunter and leaping high to the sky, _sansetsukon_ whirling in front of him as a makeshift shield.

With only seconds to react, Yurio swings his blade, flat side up, bracing the impact with trembling arms as Yuuri's weapon strikes from above, metallic clang ringing out through the field.

"I said to _disarm_ ," Victor shouts, growing increasingly alarmed, but Yuuri isn't listening. The Japanese exterminator kicks against Yurio's blade to flip backwards, twirling in midair to hurl his weapon at Yurio's unguarded chest with the momentum.

Yurio barely has time to ram his blade into the ground to deflect the attack, before Yuuri is already somersaulting over the smaller boy, gold eyes ablaze, spear raised for a killing blow.

It's only then that Victor notices Phichit racing up to the pair, yelling Yuuri's name, jeweled sword in his hands.

It's only then that Victor notices Otabek shift beside him.

"No, don't – "

For the second bloody time that week, Victor hears the dreaded sound of a gunshot ringing through his ears.

" _Yuuri_!"

The _sansetsukon_ crashes to the grass some distance away as Yuuri lands on all fours, blood splattering from the wound in his hand.

Stunned, both Phichit and Yurio have frozen in place on the field.

And Otabek still has his arm stretched to its full length, the barrel of his pistol smoking.

"I _said_ not to be hasty," Christophe sighs.

* * *

Victor can see the dark aura forming around Yuuri now, engulfing him, while the half- _youkai_ rises to his feet and straightens slowly, gold eyes slanting. In missions, there have been moments when Yuuri turns silent during a tough fight, his focus set resolutely on his target – a feature that Victor always thought to be a mere battle quirk when the other man is in full-on fighting mode.

Now, watching Yuuri lift his injured hand to his lips, watching him lap at the blood, slow and sensual, even as the wound fills in and heals with rapid speed, Victor realizes that _this_ is how it looks for Yuuri to lose control in a gradual transformation, driven by danger and the pure exhilaration of fighting.

( _This_ is how _sinfully hot_ Yuuri can look in human form.)

The salacious effect shatters when Phichit sprints up to swipe at Yuuri with the blunt edge of his sword.

"C'mon, bud, _fight it_ ," the Yaksha yells as Yuuri dodges the attack, "Don't make me do this!" Phichit takes another hard swing, but Yuuri ducks again, darting away to grab his weapon from the ground.

"Plisetsky," Christophe calls warningly from the sidelines.

"I've got it covered, pervert," Yurio snaps, swiftly jerking his gunblade forward to a defensive stance when Yuuri charges up to him – only to watch in bewilderment as Yuuri glides right by, coat soaring.

Arm pulling back, the half- _youkai_ flings the _sansetsukon_ with full strength at _Otabek_ , the segments whipping out in a blur of silver.

The fox, Victor notes, is quite a vindictive beast.

Red eyes flash, before the vampire snatches at the chain with inhuman speed and _reels_ Yuuri in like a fish on a hook, his other hand flying up to aim the pistol at Yuuri's temple.

Driving a heel into the dirt, Yuuri forces his body to fall backwards from the sudden friction, back arching, graceful as a ballerina, just as the familiar cracking noise fires mere inches above his head. Before hitting the ground, Yuuri's palms slam down, propelling him into a back flip as one foot hooks his weapon back to his hand in one fluid motion.

Without waiting for Yuuri to right himself, Otabek strides forward with his pistol raised – " _Stop_ ," Phichit screams – and fires one shot after another at the Japanese exterminator.

The dark aura pulses with Yuuri's every evasion; gold eyes taking on a menacing gleam, lips pulling back to reveal sharpening fangs.

Oh no. No, no, _no_.

Nothing was going as planned. _Nothing._ It was supposed to be a friendly sparring session. It was supposed to be a _simple_ sparring session. Most importantly, it was supposed to get Yuuri his spark back, not re-experience his transformation all over again, and certainly _not_ to curl up in misery on his _futon_ later, looking small and sad and so very lost.

For the first time in his life – and Victor is getting so many firsts with Yuuri – the Russian hunter has had enough of surprises.

Determined to put a stop to the madness, Victor takes a step towards the pair and –

"Beka!"

Swooping past Victor, Yurio rams the blunt edge of his gunblade straight into Otabek's back, sending the startled vampire flying into a tree on the far end of the field.

" _Enough_ ," Yurio commands, chest heaving.

In that next moment, with Yuuri paused in confusion, Phichit takes the opportunity to slam the flat of his sneakers into the back of Yuuri's head.

* * *

"You _dropkicked_ him."

"M'fine," Yuuri murmurs, words slurring. Head cradled in Victor's lap, he has the back of a hand draped across his forehead, eyes closed.

"You _dropkicked_ Yuuri. He probably has a concussion."

"I promised Yuuri to do whatever it takes," Phichit states fiercely.

"There has to be a better way than kicking him in the head," Victor retorts.

"You think I _want_ to hurt my best friend? What about your trigger-happy vampire? I could've talked Yuuri out of it if he hadn't been _shot_ first."

"Why didn't you use the charms?"

"I can't seal something that hasn't fully surfaced. Not till Otabek provoked the beast further, anyway."

"Aren't there charms that can help Yuuri suppress the _youkai_ then?"

"Actually, yes, I just thought it'd be more fun not to use them."

"Phichit – "

The Yaksha straightens, jaw clenched. "Who are you really mad at, Victor? The person who dropkicked Yuuri, or the person who put Yuuri in a fight because of some forgotten promise?"

"Damn, Chulanont," Christophe says softly while Victor _bristles_ , anger and _guilt_ curling in the pit of his stomach. " _Phichit_ – "

"Please stop before my brain explodes," Yuuri groans, and Victor and Phichit cease instantly. "No one's at fault; everyone did what they thought was right."

Hovering nearby, Otabek nods in agreement, rubbing ruefully at his back. "He was getting too dangerous for Yuri."

"Yeah well, Beka needs to know when to stop," Yurio huffs from where he's leaning against a tree, gunblade stuck in the dirt next to him. He lowers his gaze, muttering, "Just like I do."

"Yurio," Victor's face softens, "You're learning."

"I'm saying I need to stop expecting anything from _you_ , you lying asshole," the young hunter rolls his eyes. "You were never going to come back with me, were you?"

"If you had won – "

"If I had won, you'd have found some loophole." Green eyes flicker down to Yuuri. "Or some other bullshit excuse to stay."

"It's not a bullshit excuse," Victor says quietly.

"Whatever," snorts Yurio. "I'm going home to handle the shit-storm without you." He glances over at Otabek, meeting the vampire's intense gaze. " _We're_ going to handle it without you."

Otabek's lips quirk ever so slightly.

Nodding, Christophe flicks a cigarette stub over his shoulder. "Since it looks like Plisetsky's getting his happily ever after, might I suggest we carry our _damoiseau_ in distress back to his apartment where he'd feel much more comfortable?"

"Good idea," Victor agrees, slipping his hands under Yuuri's back and knees.

"No, wait," Yuuri flails as soon as Victor lifts him up in his arms princess style, suddenly more energetic than he was just seconds before, "I can walk – "

"Shhh," Victor whispers, resting his forehead against Yuuri's, feeling the smooth skin heat up instantly in a flush. "Let me do this for you. Please."

For a moment, Yuuri doesn't respond. And then, brown eyes blink up at him, so full of tenderness and _understanding_ that Victor feels his heart _wrenched_ to his throat. "…okay."

Rising to his feet next to them, Phichit shakes his head, but remains silent.

* * *

FROM: Priest?  
 **[So did our Gumiho win?]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[Define winning]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Verb (used without object): to gain a victory; overcome an adversary]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[Not funny. Yuuri nearly turned.]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Ah. And now you're wallowing in self-loathing.]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[I shouldn't have put Yuuri in a fight]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Well you did. The milk has spilt. Move on.]**

TO: Priest?  
 **[… you make the worst priest]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[I communicate with the Gods, not deal with your asinine, mortal problems.]**

"You look so intense."

Victor turns his head to smile at Yuuri, the brightness of his phone screen casting artful shadows over the sleepy features. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he whispers, reaching up with his free hand to brush errant dark hairs back in place.

"Mm, no," Yuuri blinks blearily, nose crinkling. "Or maybe kind of."

Victor chuckles. "Is your head still concussed?"

"Maybe," Yuuri sighs, breath warm against Victor's neck. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I will in a minute."

A fist curls and uncurls in his shirt, soft and gentle. They had come to an agreement early on that Victor was to put on clothes when they started sharing their _futon_ s; for Yuuri because, well, he's _Yuuri_ and pure as the fallen snow, and for Victor, because he's anything _but_.

Honestly, a thin piece of fabric wasn't all that helpful, either – not with Yuuri's tendency to feel him up at night, hands exploring in his sleep.

"You know Phichit only said that because he was too strung out from worry, right?" Yuuri asks softly.

Victor breathes in deep. He has never cared what people thought of him – not since he was eight and finally understood that people only loved some fantasized image of him because of his looks.

People only _hated_ some fantasized image of him because of his looks.

And so he gave in to that image, this false version that people wanted. Victor Nikiforov: handsome, flighty, debonair – the elusive playboy of many mysteries and double the number of misplaced promises and broken hearts. He could count the number of people who knew the real Victor on one hand. (Chris, Chris, and, ah, Chris.) So really, Victor could do whatever he wanted, because at the end of the day, it wasn't _him_ anyway.

But Yuuri sees him; Yuuri _wants_ to see him.

 _Victor_ wants Yuuri to see him.

Yet, to be him is to be real, and to be real means to acknowledge that he can't just do whatever he wanted, because he can, will – and _has_ – hurt the people he cares about.

"Phichit's not wrong," Victor murmurs, sliding a hand round Yuuri's waist, down the slender hips. (He has every ridge and contour memorized; yet he delights in retracing them every time.) "I pulled you into my affairs, my mistake, and put you in unnecessary danger."

"I think you owe an apology to Yurio, maybe, not me."

"But I - "

"Victor," Yuuri cuts in with a small huff, "Why do you think I became an exterminator?"

Victor pauses. "For stress relief?"

"Partly, yes," Yuuri starts drawing little circular patterns on Victor's chest, and Victor shivers, suddenly glad for their no-naked rule. "But mostly because it gives me a sense of control. It gives me confidence... this feeling like I'm strong enough, that I _can_ be strong enough. My mentor, Morooka- _sensei_ , he thought exterminating _youkai_ would help me with suppressing the curse, and it did for a while. I learned to tap into the fox's power without letting it take control. That is, until _sensei_ disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Victor catches Yuuri's hand in his, tugging it down to rest on his stomach – to keep it _still_ so he can _concentrate_.

Yuuri nods, cheek sinking further into the curve in his pillow. "It's been a couple of years, but he just, vanished. Seung-gil thinks the Exterminator Society has something to do with it; they've always hated that he took me in as a student. But we never found any proof. I kept going as an exterminator, both for _sensei_ and myself, but it felt… different. I didn't feel as confident anymore. Meanwhile, the _youkai_ in me kept getting stronger, kept clawing to get out. It became harder to use its power without losing control. Seung-gil started saying things like, 'it's inevitable, Gumiho' and, 'we have to prepare for the worst, Gumiho'…"

Victor pulls Yuuri in closer, quelling the tremors he can feel running through the other's body. "What about Phichit?"

"Phichit has been incredible and so positive with me, but I know he thinks it's inevitable, too. I know he's given up." Yuuri smiles wistfully, and Victor feels his heart in his ears, "I know _I_ gave up."

"Yuuri…"

"Then you came into my life." Yuuri laughs, embarrassed. "I mean, you've always been in my life, but not in person, you know? And then you said, you said at dinner that you liked my eyes, and… it gave me hope again. Hope and happiness and everything I used to feel with Morooka- _sensei_."

Victor exhales slowly. "Was this Morooka a former lover?"

There's a beat, before Yuuri smushes his pillow down on Victor's face. "He was my _mentor_ ," he says flatly.

Victor pushes the pillow aside. "But you said – "

"What I'm _trying_ to say," Yuuri sits up and snatches the pillow back, pouting so very cutely, "Is that you wanted me to fight because you _believed_ in me. The _youkai_ took over in the end, but you believed I had the will to fight back, even after seeing my transformation, even after seeing me lose control… and just that alone helps. Really, really helps."

Victor rises up, eyes softening. "So you'll fight it? The curse?"

Yuuri breathes in, and nods. "As much as I'm able, yes."

Viktor reaches for him, "Oh Yuuri, I'm so glad…"

"Hang on," Yuuri pulls back. "You're not completely off the hook."

Viktor's heart sinks. "I'm not?"

"No, you're not." Yuuri smiles, eyelashes lowering. "Next time, _ask_ me before throwing me into a fight."

Ahh, he loves this man – so much.

"I will, my angel. I'll ask, and I'll _think_ before I act on my instincts." Victor leans in to nuzzle his nose lightly against Yuuri's, delighting in the beautiful flush spreading across the other man's cheeks.

"Haven't you learnt your lesson about false promises?" Yuuri laughs, the clear sound of a soft, ringing bell.

"Cheeky," Victor chuckles, heart so, so full. "You know, I was going to surprise you with a gift tomorrow, but now might be a more appropriate time."

"Gift?" Yuuri tilts his head slightly. "What's the occasion?"

"Just because." Victor beams. "Wait here." Tossing the covers off, he pulls at the cord for the lights up ahead, and speeds into the dining room, where he has hidden the surprise under the kitchen sink.

When he returns, Yuuri is watching him, still smiling in that sweet, shy way that Victor just adores.

"Tada~" Victor lets the delicate material drop as he holds it by the flimsy, white straps.

After going through numerous selections with Christophe, he had settled on a little black number with white lace on the borders – the top translucent and laced with a crisscross pattern of white ribbons down the open center; a frilly, layered mini-skirt completing the bottom.

Yuuri's smile morphs into a befuddled stare. "That's… what is that?"

"A sexy lingerie-style apron!"

"Um," a bright shade of red creeps across Yuuri's face, "I don't think that's for men."

"Nonsense, you'd look _stunning._ "

Slowly, Yuuri sinks under the covers until only his wide, mortified eyes are visible.

"Yuuri?"

"Good night," Yuuri squeaks, turning and tugging the blanket over his head.

"Yuu~ri~ at least try it on? You can wear it while you cook!"

" _Good night_."

Victor presses the apron to his lips, smiling into the fabric.

He believes in Yuuri, just as he believes Yuuri will come around to his gift.

Eventually.

* * *

Notes:

Step one: Google "sexy lingerie apron".  
Step two: Imagine Yuuri in one of those things.  
Step three: Imagine Victor's face imagining Yuuri in one those things.  
Step four: Understand Christophe's need for a cigarette in the department store.

Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Notes:** Meant to be a filler chapter of sorts, but no less important. :3 As always, please enjoy, and let me know your thoughts!_

* * *

 _Seung-gil descends from the red dais, a questioning expression on his face. Dressed in white Japanese Shinto robes, little black hat perched on his head, the curator's image has changed from that of a stern businessman to a softer, more mystical look – one that is actually worthy of his role as the expert 'contact' for youkai exterminators. His prayers to the Inari gods were also extremely haunting, the long mantras chanted in an oddly melodic minor key. Victor had watched him below the dais, mesmerized and drawn into the arcane performance._

 _"_ _What do you want, hunter?"_

 _And then, the curator-priest shatters the illusion with that mouth._

 _Victor smiles patiently. "I wanted to talk about Yuuri."_

 _"_ _If it's about Gumiho's sansetsukon, I have it at my office." Seung-gil removes his hat, tucking it under his arm like a bike helmet. "Sweepers brought it back after clearing up the phoenix carcass."_

 _"_ _That's wonderful, but I'm here about his transformations."_

 _Seung-gil quirks an eyebrow. "Does Gumiho know you're here?"_

 _"_ _No, I told him I had a location shoot. No sense in worrying him when he's still recovering."_

 _"_ _Hm," grunts the curator, narrowed eyes piercing into Victor's. Starting down the gravel path of the shrine, he gestures at Victor to walk with him. "What do you want to know?" he asks over the loud crunches under their feet._

 _Victor glances up as they pass through a tall, red arch. "Phichit seems to think it's hopeless, but there must be a way to stop his… evolution, for lack of a better word."_

 _"_ _Do you think I wouldn't have tried if I knew?" Seung-gil scoffs. "I might pray to Gumiho's youkai species, but I happen to prefer his human side."_

 _That's as close to 'I like him' as Seung-gil is likely to say about any person. Victor is relieved to know that the curator is on their side for this matter. "Regardless, I want to help him search for, well, anything that could help. Where could I find the resources for that sort of information?"_

 _"_ _The Exterminator Society."_

 _Victor stares at Seung-gil. "But Yuuri said the Society hates half-youkai."_

 _"_ _Not exactly," Seung-gil stops in front of a building that looks like a large business center, people in suits coming and going through the entrance. "The Society has always been divided on what to do with half-youkai: half of them feel they should be left alone, on account of having some humanity in them; the other half feel they should be exterminated along with the rest of their youkai brethren. The Saga branch head and his minions just happen to fall in the latter half." The curator shrugs. "Long story short, the Society has the resources to help Yuuri – and the resources to destroy him."_

 _"_ _So then," Victor frowns, digesting the new information slowly, "You're suggesting we convince the other half to help Yuuri?"_

 _"_ _The only way to convince Murase is to kill him," Seung-gil sniffs. "No, hunter, I'm suggesting you lay low, or better yet, leave this country altogether. Something's brewing in that cesspool of an organization; there's no need for you to get involved."_

 _Yuuri's despaired expression flashes through Victor's mind, his chest tightening at the image. "I'm not leaving Yuuri, nor am I giving up on finding him a cure. Not now, not ever."_

 _Seung-gil rolls his eyes. "You've known Gumiho for what, a couple of months? What is it with you foreigners and your irrational sense of passion?"_

 _"_ _We call that love," Victor says with a smile._

* * *

On the instagram picture, Yurio is flipping the bird at the camera, Otabek looking stoic as ever by his side. _Victor Nikiforov is dead_ , screams the angry caption, but Victor doesn't miss Otabek's hand on Yurio's shoulder, or the Japanese amulet dangling from a bracelet on his wrist.

Yuuri will be pleased to know that Yurio's making use of his gift.

Beaming, Victor scrolls upwards. Christophe's trying yet another new flavor of beer; Mila attended some after party for a runway show; JJ's national solo tour is now in Toronto…

Victor stops at the next picture, eyebrows furrowing, just as the bathroom door slides open to a cloud of steam.

"Yuuri?" he calls as the Japanese man crosses the dining room to the fridge, a towel draped round his neck.

"Yes?" says Yuuri, glancing over his shoulder, damp hair clinging to his cheeks and nape.

Victor squashes the urge to crush Yuuri against the fridge; push away the stray strands with his mouth. (It's getting harder every damn day, especially with the way Yuuri keeps tormenting him with those innocent, wandering hands at night.) "Who is this man who tagged you in an instagram picture?"

Retrieving a bottle of chocolate milk, Yuuri pops the lid. "Oh, that's Leo! He's one of the models in the last assignment I had." He takes a swig, smiling. "He's really friendly, _and_ he's a dog _youkai_."

Victor holds up his phone, studying the picture. It's clearly a human male, fairly handsome, with brown skin and an amiable grin. "He's also a half- _youkai_?"

"No, full _youkai_." Yuuri joins Victor at the coffee table, flopping down onto the floor chair. "With practice, some _youkai_ can shape shift, so lots of them live among us. He figured I wasn't a regular human right away, so we got to talking."

"And taking selfies." Victor flashes a megawatt smile. "You know, _we_ haven't taken a selfie."

Yuuri wrinkles his nose. "But I'm not anyone famous."

"You could be if you put on the apron I got you – "

"Let's take a selfie!" Yuuri slides in, pressing warmly into Victor's side – he can smell the tangy fragrance of Yuuri's grapefruit shampoo.

Lord, give him strength.

* * *

Leo, as it turns out, is an international model working at Victor's very agency. ("There's only one agency in this tiny town," Christophe shrugs.) Victor hasn't paid attention to his colleagues beyond an exchange of polite smiles in the hallways, and he wonders now just how many of them are actually shape shifting _youkai_ in human form.

Obviously, he has see this Leo for himself now; the instagram-savvy _youkai_ could be a danger to Yuuri.

It doesn't take long to find Leo. All the models have a favorite hangout spot that is a little café two blocks down from the agency, and sure enough, Leo is there – sitting at a corner table, listening to music through his earphones.

Leo is indeed very friendly when Victor approaches him, tugging out his earphones and offering the Russian a seat without hesitation.

"Yuuri's told me all about you," Leo says cheerily as Victor sinks into the seat. "I've seen your movies, too."

"The good ones, I hope," Victor laughs. Waving down a server, he orders an expresso.

"Trust me, they're all good as far as my mate is concerned."

Victor arches an eyebrow. "Your mate?"

"Guang Hong," Leo nods. "Takes the form of a cute little Chinese guy. You might have seen him around; he runs about assisting the agency photographers at shoots."

"I might have." Victor hasn't, but he's feeling extremely pleased with this news. "So Guang Hong is also, ah…"

"He's a cat."

"A dog and a cat?"

"Opposites attract, right? Isn't that what humans like to say?"

"Sometimes." Victor nods as the server places his order down. "If I may ask, how do _youkai_ claim another as their mate?"

"Not like humans with your fascinating rituals, though we're keeping up as best as we can." Proudly, Leo holds up his left hand, revealing the shiny gold band on his finger. "Otherwise, we mark with scents. Pheromones. You know, little touches here and there."

Victor takes a sip of his coffee. "Interesting. It's quite different from demons; they breed, but are rarely monogamous."

"Oh, very different then. We _youkai_ mate for life." Leo grins widely. "But you'd know that, wouldn't you?"

"Why would I know that?"

"Well you're marked. Quite heavily, in fact."

Victor _chokes_.

* * *

When they return to the agency office, Victor has never been more elated to see his angel stepping out of a meeting room, briefcase in hand.

"Yuuri~"

Yuuri lights up as soon as he sees Victor, and Victor's heart _soars._ "Victor! I was just having a meeting for my next assignment…" The corner of his eyes crinkles adorably in delight. "I see you've met Leo."

"We've met, all right." Clapping Yuuri on the shoulder, Leo looks like he's holding in his laughter. "I'll see you around, you sly fox."

Yuuri blinks owlishly behind his glasses. "Oh, sure."

"Shall we head home?" Victor slips an arm round Yuuri's shoulders as Leo saunters away, snickering to himself. "Unless you have another meeting."

"Done for the day," Yuuri turns to smile at Victor. "Let's go."

With the sun out, they decide to walk home along the scenic route, past the meadows and the ladies in straw hats hard at work in the rice fields. Green stretches as far as the eye can see, with sunlight reflecting off the fields, waters sparkling and rippling with every breeze.

As Yuuri gazes out at the fields, wind ruffling his hair, Victor snaps a quick shot on his phone.

Hash tag: wingless angel. Hash tag: eighth wonder of the world. Hash tag: my obsession.

Instagram will explode and Yuuri will kill him later, but he can't help it – his angel is just so, _so_ beautiful.

After uploading the photo, he clears his throat. "So, Leo told me a little bit about _youkai_ relationships."

"Did he?" Yuuri turns back. "What did he say?"

"That _youkai_ leave scents on their mates to mark their territory."

"Huh. Very much like animals then," Yuuri notes absently.

Victor breathes in. ( _Is Yuuri not aware?_ ) "He also told me that…" The Russian trails off, realizing that Yuuri's squinting at a point past his shoulder. "Yuuri…?"

"There's… there's something…" Gold creeps into the brown, before suddenly, Yuuri's flying at him, tackling him hard into the dirt.

A humanoid shadow appears above, dark and threatening, somehow looking miffed despite the white paper mask over its face.

" _Shikigami_ ," Yuuri hisses, rolling off Victor and making a beeline for the briefcase that has skid down the path.

Before Victor can react, the shadow is speeding after Yuuri, black arms reaching for him. A second shadow manifests in front, stretching out ominously. Snatching at his briefcase, Yuuri evades both shadows and darts back to Victor, undoing the clasps with deft fingers.

The case drops open, and papers covered with Yuuri's neat, meticulous writing scatter haphazardly across the ground.

"Your notes – "

"Never mind." Yuuri shoves a wad of sheets into Victor's hand. There's calligraphy on the top, hastily scrawled with a thin brush. "Put this charm on their masks. Don't let them touch you; they'll drain your strength."

Not the time for questions, clearly.

Once the initial surprise has died away, the shadows are not quite as menacing as they appear. They're fast but nowhere near the speed of some _youkai_ ; they're flexible, limbs twisting and bending as they glide through the air, but almost pointlessly so.

They also completely ignore Victor, lunging noiselessly for Yuuri and only Yuuri.

Free to move as he pleased, it doesn't take long for Victor to find an opening and stick a charm on a shadow, just as Yuuri manages to slap one on the other. A bright glow emanates from the writing on the charms, before the shadows seem to collapse into themselves – or more accurately, fold with terrifying _squelching_ noises into their _masks_. Within seconds, their attackers are reduced to white paper, fluttering harmlessly to the ground.

And that's exactly when a small boy runs up behind them, screaming in rapid Japanese.

He's a high school student, judging by his school uniform, but his far more distinguishing feature is his hair – a rebellious streak of fire engine red standing out amidst the bleached locks.

All Victor can catch in the boy's words are Yuuri's name, " _youkai_ ", "how did you do that" and "stop".

Yuuri has his hands up in a defensive pose, and appears to be telling the boy to "calm down".

Then, as abruptly as he appeared, the boy turns and runs off, still yelling like a foghorn all the way down the path.

"What happened?" asks Victor, wishing there was a faster way to pick up foreign languages.

"I'll explain as much as I know along the way," Yuuri sighs. "We'll have to contact Seung-gil for the rest."

* * *

"What's the boy's name again?"

"Kenjiro. Kenjiro Minami."

"So his family name is Kenjiro?"

"No, Minami."

"Again, I fail to understand why we have to converse in English all the time now," Seung-gil says wryly over the speakerphone.

"Because Victor's part of this conversation," Yuuri says patiently.

"Can't you translate for him later? You _are_ an interpreter."

"For people who can't speak the target language. Which obviously, you can."

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "Fine."

Victor leans across the coffee table. "Love you too, Seungie~"

" _Ugh_."

"Anyway," Yuuri stifles a laugh. "It's clear that this boy's an exterminator… or at least, has ambitions to be an exterminator. He's adept enough to manipulate _shikigami_ – paper dolls," Yuuri sweetly adds for Victor's benefit, "But not experienced enough to give them more complex orders like a command to attack multiple targets."

"And you're calling me because…?"

"He knew who I was. He even called me an 'evil force to be purged from this earth'."

Victor feels prickles of irritation. "He called you a _what_?"

"Just a typical day for Gumiho," Seung-gil snorts.

"That doesn't make it right."

Yuuri flashes a sad smile, and Victor's chest tightens painfully. "We really only had a rash of such incidents after _sensei_ disappeared. It sort of quieted down, and there hasn't been a single one till today."

Seung-gil makes a contemplative noise. "So you think the Society might have something to do with this?"

"I was hoping you'd find out."

"They're good at covering their tracks, but I'll see what I can dredge up."

"Thank you." At Seung-gil's non-committal grunt, Yuuri hangs up the call and rises to his feet. "What do you feel like for dinner, Victor? We've got tuna, and bamboo shoots, and – "

Victor grasps Yuuri's wrist. "This has happened before?"

"It's nothing." Yuuri gently pulls away, chewing on his bottom lip in his telltale sign of anxiety. "Just a typical day."

"Yuuri – "

"We'll just have to be more vigilant, that's all." Yuuri bustles to the dining room, making a great show of meal preparation with loud clangs and bangs of pots.

That explains why Yuuri is so nonchalant about his own blood; he must have had so much of it spilt. Victor understands hatred – a feeling born all too easily out of jealousy – but he can't imagine what it must feel like to be _hunted_ by one's fellow human beings.

How could his dear angel have possibly doubted his own strength, when he has been so brave for so long?

Victor clenches his fists. If they run into this Minami boy again, he's going to upturn the insolent kid over his knee and give him a hard spanking.

* * *

Minami doesn't show up.

And Seung-gil's silent about the matter, which means the curator hasn't found anything useful or relevant.

So their routine continues without interruption: working; going on occasional missions in the evenings; lying together and enduring Yuuri's little caresses at night. (When Phichit asks for a description of Minami so he can "whip the kid good", Victor is more than happy to acquiesce despite Yuuri's disapproval.)

They're kept busy enough that the _shikigami_ incident soon fades from their minds – or at the very least, Victor's mind.

"Have you seen Leo's instagram picture with his mate?" The hunter smiles at the loving photo: the two _youkai_ pressed cheek to cheek, beaming at the camera. Leo's mate has chosen petite, boyish features for his human form, and Victor can see why Leo had described his mate as 'cute'. "They make a fine couple."

"I haven't," Yuuri chops the onions with swift motions, lips curved. "But I'm sure they do."

Victor runs a hand through his wet hair, reaching for his shirt.

He will never forget the comically endearing way Yuuri had shuffled backwards and tripped over the coffee table, very nearly fracturing his spine, all because he stepped out of the bathroom at his most comfortable that day.

("Pants." Yuuri's still on the floor, hands covering his face, "At least wear _pants_."

"I'm quite comfortable in briefs – "

" _Pants._ ")

It takes a while longer for Yuuri to fully overcome his embarrassment, but the Japanese man can now look _and_ interact with a shirtless Victor without imploding into a mortified mess.

Hash tag: ever closer to domestic bliss.

Eyes on Leo and Guang Hong's photograph, Victor's hand halts midway in its reach for the shirt. Speaking of bliss and _youkai_ mates…

He looks up to see Yuuri on his tiptoes, stretching for something on a high shelf. The rumpled T-shirt rides up _just so_ beneath the apron, exposing an enticing patch of skin.

Victor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose - Yuuri's going to drive him _insane_ at this rate.

After a good amount of all that maddening stretching, and that shirt climbing higher and higher up the narrow waist, Victor has had about enough. "Would you like some help with that?" he asks sweetly.

"Oh, yes, actually," Yuuri laughs sheepishly. "Could you get the cardamum powder on the top shelf? I'm not even sure how I managed to get it up that high in the first place..."

Crossing over, Victor reaches for the small bottle easily. Smiling, Yuuri twists round to accept the condiment - and it's only then that Victor realizes how close they're standing to each other, how he's pressed up against Yuuri, how _Yuuri_ has also come to this realization, a deep flush sweeping like wildfire across his cheeks.

Right, now's as good a time as any.

"Yuuri, how do I smell to you?"

Yuuri blinks several times. "Um… nice?"

Chuckling, the Russian drops both hands to the edge of the counter, effectively pinning the smaller man in place. "I'm asking what scents you smell on me. Mine?" He brushes his lips on a spot below Yuuri's ear. "Yours?"

He feels Yuuri shiver in his arms, and his control starts to unravel. "I don't... I can't tell unless I tap into the _youkai_ 's abilities. But we share _futon_ s, so I guess my scent would mix in with yours?"

"Leo says it's different, the scent of a marking. He says I've been marked. With your scent." Victor's voice drops, low and deep, "Have you marked me as yours?"

"I don't know." Yuuri swallows, adam's apple bobbing nervously, "I didn't know I could mark you like that."

"Hmm." Victor's gaze flickers down to pink lips. "Do you _wish_ you could mark me like that?"

There's a pause as eyelids lower over brown eyes, turning hazy with an emotion that Victor can only hope mirrors his own.

"Yes," Yuuri whispers then, barely audible, and Victor's breath comes out in a rush of joy. He leans down to _finally_ claim those soft –

" _Katsuki Yuuri_!"

Oh, fuck him; fuck him _hard_.

"That sounds like Minami," Yuuri says, eyes wide – and no longer hazy, fuck fuck _fuck_. "How did he get our address?"

"Yuuri," Victor says calmly, as his angel, predictably, attempts to wriggle out of his arms. "This is just like the last time with Yurio. Ignore him and he'll go away."

There's more incoherent shrieking from outside, and the doorbell abuse begins.

Yuuri throws Victor an apologetic look. "We'll get complaints from our neighbors."

Closing his eyes in defeat, Victor drops his arms and backs away.

As far as he's concerned, these bloody high schoolers are the bane of his existence.

* * *

It's an odd development.

One moment the kid's yelling blue murder at them at the door, the next he's in their dining room, fidgeting in a chair.

It might've had something to do with Minami freaking out so hard that he fell on his ass when Victor showed up, shirtless and looking angry enough to commit murder.

It might've also had something to do with Minami's stomach growling very loudly in the middle of his screaming.

Apparently this is their pattern now: feeding hungry teenagers after they've injured Yuuri or made death threats on their doorstep.

"Surely he has parents to go home to." Victor shoots a glare at Minami, who shrinks in his seat.

So the kid's cowed by the presence of half-naked foreigners – _good_.

"He lives in an orphanage, so I suspect he doesn't." Yuuri sets down plates of tuna salad and curry in front of Minami.

"You asked him that?"

"Well I asked if he had dinner waiting for him at home."

"You're too _nice_ , my angel," Victor sighs, just as Minami starts squealing, gesturing wildly at the dishes.

Something "delicious" something something "amazing".

" _Thank you_ ," Yuuri answers in Japanese, smiling. "He says it's been really long since he's had a home cooked meal and it's very good," he translates smoothly.

"Tell him it's more than he deserves."

"Victor," Yuuri chides.

"He tried to hurt you." And interrupted their kiss, damn it.

"Exterminators who rely on _shikigami_ to fight their battles are usually lacking in skill themselves," Yuuri points out. "He's harmless, I'm sure."

Mouth bulging with food, Minami glances at them, eyes darting back and forth nervously.

When Yuuri turns back to him, the teenager leaps off his seat so fast, the chair topples with the sudden movement. Instantly, Victor is also on his feet, tugging Yuuri behind him.

As Minami yelps out his words like a yippy Chihuahua, Yuuri provides a simultaneous interpretation with impressive ease. "He says he won't be bribed by delicious food. His parents were killed by _youkai_ when he was a child, so he won't let me off so easily. He says the next time we meet, he won't be as merciful."

Then, with his speech made and his stomach filled, Minami bolts out of the dining room and to the entranceway.

" _Wait_ ," Yuuri calls, but the door slams, signaling Minami's departure. "Oh, I was hoping to find out who told him about me."

"Why did he even come here?" Victor mutters irately.

* * *

On their next mission, Seung-gil has an update.

According to his sources, the Kenjiro clan's reputation is small, barely a blip in the history of exterminators. Their powers have grown weaker with each generation, and many of their descendants no longer engage in _youkai_ extermination, choosing to lead normal, regular lives. Some are still able to see _youkai_ , but most have lost the ability decades ago.

"Even so, _youkai_ can be vengeful creatures," Seung-gil concludes with a shrug. "The mate of an exterminated _youkai_ must have sought out Kenjiro's parents and killed them as revenge. Either that, or they unknowingly enraged a _youkai_ at some point."

"And now Minami's after me," Yuuri sighs. "Full cycle."

"He doesn't sound like the brightest crayon in the box," Phichit snorts. "For all we know, his parents could've died in a car crash but the Society brainwashed him into thinking otherwise."

"There's no proof of the Society's involvement," Seung-gil shakes his head. "Not that I can find."

"He's more of a nuisance than anything else," Victor grumbles, ignoring the smirk Phichit tosses his way.

"What's our target tonight?" Yuuri asks a little louder than necessary.

Seung-gil takes a glimpse at their expressions then rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

It's a fairly routine mission, with a simple C-ranked _youkai_ that's terrorizing the local farmers and their livestock. The _youkai_ put up a valiant fight, and they'll have to call in the Sweepers for thrashing about in some poor farmer's rice field for a bit, but whole thing is over in a matter of minutes, with Yuuri's _sansetsukon_ remaining in its spear form the entire time.

They're walking away from the little white lights rising into the night sky, when Phichit spots them first – dozens upon dozens of white paper masks bobbing up and down in the distance.

Yuuri stares at the army of _shikigami,_ mouth agape. "How many _are_ there?"

Materializing charms, Phichit tosses them to Victor and Yuuri. "Does it matter?"

The manmade beings are just as single-minded as before, pushing past Victor and Phichit in their attempts to get to Yuuri. Though they're easy enough to defeat, the sheer, _endless_ number this time is enough to wear out even the most tenacious of fighters.

"You weren't kidding about him being a nuisance." Phichit flings out multiple charms at once, ripping his sword through any shadows that get too close. The _shikigami_ reform swiftly, only to resume their path to Yuuri as though they were never cut down at all.

Arrows clacking in the quiver, Victor slams a charm into a mask with such vehemence that the shadow flies back, bowling over its companions. "Just wait till I get my hands on that kid," he promises savagely, every ounce of suppressed anger bursting out like a punctured balloon.

"Not if I get him first," Phichit huffs, booting a shadow away from him.

"Someone _must_ have put him up to this," says Yuuri, fending off several _shikigami_ with his weapon, "Someone's fed him information – "

" _Begone, youkai_!"

Yuuri whirls round just in time for Minami to slap a charm onto his face with a triumphant shout. In that instant, every _shikigami_ in the vicinity collapses back into their masks, and the ground turns into a sea of white as papers scatter across the field.

There's a long, long pause, broken only by Phichit's stifled sniggering.

Then, slowly, Yuuri peels back the sheet to reveal reddened skin, gold eyes narrowed with irritation. "The charm only works _after_ I've turned," he says flatly, while Minami stares at him with all kinds of horror.

The next thing the boy says in Japanese cuts Phichit's amusement short, the Yaksha striding over to jerk Minami up by the collar.

"What man?" Phichit demands. The green mask on his head seems to move, its lips pulling back to bare sharp teeth. " _What man_?"

"Gently," Yuuri frowns as Minami's large eyes fill to the brim with tears. "You're scaring him."

"What did he say?" Victor asks, stepping across the white papers littered on the ground.

"He said some man told him the charm would work if he pushed Yuuri past his limits," Phichit growls. "This _reeks_ of Exterminator Society." The Yaksha drags Minami in close with startling force, and Victor is once again reminded of how little he actually knows of Phichit. " _Who told you about Yuuri_?"

Squeaking in terror, the teenager shakes his head vigorously, trembling.

Yuuri lays a hand on Phichit's shoulder. "Let me talk to him."

"Yuuri," Victor and Phichit protest in unison.

"We'll just be over there, where you can see us," Yuuri assures. He offers a hand to Minami, speaking softly in their shared language.

For a beat, Minami stares at the hand, hiccupping, as though he expects snakes to emerge. Then, hesitantly, he slides his hand into Yuuri's. The older exterminator leads Minami to some spot near the side of a farmhouse, talking in a soothing tone the entire way.

"He's too trusting," Victor remarks, clutching his bow tensely.

"Always has been," Phichit swings his sword restlessly, gaze fixed on Yuuri and Minami in the distance. "His best and worst trait."

"Can't you talk to him about it?"

"If I could, you wouldn't be living with him right now."

"What?" Victor turns to Phichit, eyebrows knitting in bewilderment.

"No offense," Phichit shrugs, "But we didn't know anything about you beyond your roles in movies and magazines. I'm all for dinner dates, but I didn't want Yuuri to have some psychopathic murderer in his home."

"But you seemed so positive about it."

"Once Yuuri makes his choice, I'll always support him for it." Phichit grins impishly. "Besides, that one disastrous fight aside, it sounds like Yuuri's the one putting you through the wringer."

Victor sighs; bloody Christophe and his runaway mouth. "I just… don't want to frighten him."

"Yuuri isn't as innocent as you think – ah, they're done." Phichit hastens to Yuuri before Victor can ask what he meant. As his angel approaches, Minami trails behind with a thoroughly chastised expression.

"Minami has promised to stop with his attacks," Yuuri smiles. " _Isn't that right, Minami-kun_?" he transitions into Japanese gently.

Mutely, the teenager nods.

"And he understands that Murase can't be trusted."

"I knew it," Phichit hisses, while Minami flinches.

"Murase promised to let the Kenjiro clan regain membership in the Exterminator Society if Minami succeeded in getting rid of me. He even gave Minami advice on where to find me and how to bring out the fox."

Victor raises an eyebrow. "Why on earth would Murase assign such a mission to a rookie?"

"He's using the kid." Phichit shoots a piercing look at Minami. "Done it before with other exterminators, years ago. If by some miracle Minami succeeds, all's well that ends well. If Minami fails and dies, the Society has grounds to hunt Yuuri down for manslaughter. If he fails and _survives_ , the Society will still have gathered new information about Yuuri and his transformations."

"The question is, why is Murase starting it up again?" Yuuri frowns. "What is he up to?"

"That's up to Seung-gil to find out."

Eyes soft, Victor moves closer to rest a hand Yuuri's shoulder. "Until then, we stay vigilant."

Yuuri smiles up at him, and his stomach clenches – so _beautiful_.

Minami mumbles something under his breath.

" _What was that?_ " Yuuri probes softly.

Minami swallows. "Sorry," he repeats in English, eyes downcast.

Victor and Phichit exchange looks.

"Just so long as you stop attacking Yuuri," Victor says kindly.

"What he said," Phichit flashes a friendly smile.

Yuuri beams, and Victor knows his angel is happy to see everyone getting along. "I think we should all go home and have a nice, long rest."

"Man," Phichit stretches as they start down the path, "I can't wait to go home to Taeyeon and Harold and Chakrii and – "

"Um!"

The three of them turn back to Minami, who has his hands clasped together, fidgeting nervously.

And then, to their astonishment, he throws himself to the ground on his hands and knees, face planting hard into the dirt, shrieking in Japanese.

" _Don't do that_ ," Yuuri gasps, hurrying to coax the teenager to his feet.

"What's happening," Victor says, wondering if his heart can really take any more surprises.

"He just asked Yuuri to be his teacher." Phichit grins. "Seriously, Victor, I'm sending you a link to a device that will make things so much easier for you here. You'll _love_ me for it."

"Wait – " Victor stares as Yuuri says something to Minami that causes the smaller boy to practically wrap his entire body around Yuuri in the tightest embrace he has ever seen.

"Wait, his _teacher_?"

* * *

FROM: Swiss  
 **[HAAAHAHAHA]**

FROM: Angel's BFF  
 **[Here's that device I told you about: watch?v=S0X9AVrgyuQ]**

FROM: Angel's BFF  
 **[Now you'll know every gushing word of praise Minami says about Yuuri 8D]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[HAHAHAAAHA]**

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[LMAO I told Katsudon to spend as much time with his student as he can!]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Why would I tell Gumiho not to take in a student? How is that any of my concern?]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[Why is Yuuko asking about wedding dates? Did you post something again? You know I hardly check instagram…]**

FROM: Guard Dog  
 **[Yuri said to text you that it serves you right and he hopes your balls fall off from underuse.]**

FROM: Guard Dog  
 **[He also said not to tell you he asked me to text you that.]**

FROM: Guard Dog  
 **[... ah.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[Can't. Stop. Laughing.]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[VICTOR]**

FROM: Angel  
 **[WHY]**

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[Linked Katsudon your latest instagram post. Have fun in the doghouse, asshole]**

"You really are a popular one." Leo smiles at the vibrating phone as the make-up artist dabs at his cheeks with a sponge.

"With the worst friends," Victor grumbles, flipping his phone over.

Leo laughs richly. The make-up artist scurries away to touch up another model. "Did you get around to asking Yuuri about you-know-what?"

"I did, but he doesn't seem to know about it." Victor peers into the dressing mirror, absently flicking silver bangs out of his eyes. "Are you sure it's a marking and not just because we share _futon_ s at night?"

"Positive. Every instinct is warning me against getting too close, and that's from the scent you're giving off."

"We haven't even kissed."

"You don't have to kiss to mark another. Guang Hong and I didn't start kissing until we joined the human world." Leo does a practice smolder at his reflection. "Has Yuuri touched you in any way?"

"Only at night. He does this infuriating thing where he runs his hands _all over_ me in his sleep – " Victor turns to find Leo grinning at him from ear to ear. "What?"

"Just that I think I've found your answer."

* * *

When Victor returns home – _their_ home – he sits through Yuuri's impassioned lecture about personal privacy and social media with the most blissful expression cemented on his face.

Leo's voice echoes over and over in his mind.

 _"_ _The fact that he's doing it in his sleep means it's entirely unconscious, but the message is clear: he wants the world to know that you're his."_

This whole time, while Victor has been trying to show the world his love for Yuuri through silly pictures and hash tags, Yuuri has revealed his love in the sweetest, most subtle, most _Yuuri_ way possible.

To think he was so jealous about a teenager.

" – million followers overnight! Yuuko's even created some sort of fanclub! I'm just not comfortable with – "

"Yuuri."

Yuuri pauses. "What is it?"

"I am always and forever yours, my angel."

As Yuuri is reduced to incoherent stammering, Victor sighs happily.

He can wait; he _will_ wait.

And when Yuuri finally acknowledges his love, it will be the day Victor Nikiforov will officially die and go to heaven.

* * *

Notes

Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Notes:** I feel like I should rename this fic into "Victor Never Catches a Break" lol. We finally have the Western hunters showing off some skills, a little more on Christophe as a hunter, and lots more Seung-gil. Also: plot, plot, and more plot. _

_Please enjoy, and as always, let me know your thoughts!_

* * *

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Come by my office at 5PM.]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[It concerns Gumiho.]**

* * *

"Here."

Victor looks up from the wad of charms offered to him, eyebrows raised. "What are these for?"

Seung-gil shakes the wad impatiently. "Seals for your protection, obviously."

"Yuuri has charms at home."

"Yuuri's charms aren't strong enough. Not against his fox."

Sudden, irrational anger swirls through Victor.

He had responded to Seung-gil's cryptic text by showing up at the curator's office as requested, lying once more to his angel about a shoot, only to receive objects created specifically to combat the very person he was hoping to protect.

What would Yuuri think if he carried charms around?

Victor pushes the seals aside. "Shouldn't you be trying to help Yuuri, not find ways to defend against him?"

Seung-gil's expression twists into a scowl. "Until we find some way to help Yuuri, defending ourselves is the only thing we _can_ do. Especially with Murase helming some insidious plan."

"If we show Yuuri how much we _trust_ him – "

"This isn't some trashy Hollywood movie where a White man swoops in to rescue the poor, helpless Asian with the power of love," Seung-gil counters, eyes rolling.

Victor frowns. "That's not what I meant."

Snorting, the curator crosses his arms. "Wax lyrical all you want about trust and love, but such idealistic nonsense means zilch in the face of a vicious fox _youkai_. Even an optimistic fool like Chulanont has come to terms with his obligations, so what's your excuse?"

Obligations?

"Really, Seung-gil," Phichit laughs at the table where he's lounging, waiting for the curator to return to their colorful card game, "Can't you compliment a guy without turning it into an insult?"

"Who said it was a compliment?"

"What's this about obligations?" Victor demands aloud, but Phichit nods at the charms in Seung-gil's hand, blatantly disregarding his question.

"Think about it this way," the Yaksha suggests, leaning far enough for his chair to tilt precariously on two legs, "How do you think Yuuri would feel if he came back from a _youkai_ black-out and found your blood on his hands?"

Victor pauses, anger evaporating. It would tear Yuuri apart to find out he'd injured anyone, much less his idol, his _mate_ , even unconsciously marked, and Victor's stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of his angel in pain.

Phichit nods knowingly, "Yeah, that'd hurt him way more than those charms ever would." The chair drops back down, legs banging against the ground; Victor flinches at the noise. "Unless you're strong enough to hold your own with the _youkai_ , take the seals," the Thai says solemnly.

 _Unless you're strong enough_ …

The gears in Victor's head spin, whirring rapidly.

Phichit once said that he'd do whatever it takes for Yuuri. Well, so could he.

"If I'm strong enough, then – "

Seung-gil lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, hunter, what a sense of humor."

Victor quickly suppresses a twinge of indignation. "Chris and I have hunted all manners of demons," he retorts. "I've also gone on missions here."

"With Gumiho leading the charge, no doubt," Seung-gil scoffs.

Damn.

Much as Victor hates to admit it, the curator is right; he tends to take a backseat with Phichit in missions, stepping in only when Yuuri's in need of backup. With low ranked _youkai_ , Yuuri is practically a one-man powerhouse, exterminating their targets without breaking a sweat. (Sometimes, Victor feels more like a student on a field trip than a combatant, present only to observe Yuuri in action – not that he will ever complain about the chance to see his beautiful angel in battle.)

Perhaps it's time to show the West-hating curator-slash-priest just how skilled a hunter truly can be.

"Give me missions," Victor says fiercely. "So I can become stronger for Yuuri."

"Uh," says Phichit, blanching, rising from his seat, "I don't think – "

"It just so happens that I do have one at hand," Seung-gil cuts in, stepping in front of Phichit, smirking – as if he's been waiting to hear those very words. Vaguely, Victor can't help the suspicion that he has been craftily manipulated somehow. "I think you'll find it quite educational."

"What rank is it?" Victor asks, ignoring Phichit's frantic gestures, mouthing _abort, abort_ in the back.

"You only get the details if you accept the mission." Seung-gil's smirk spreads, dark eyes glimmering under the dim lighting. "So are you in, or are you out?"

"In," says Victor, straightening to full height.

"Yuuri's so going to kill you, Seung-gil," Phichit mutters.

"I live but to serve my divine masters," the curator says, looking entirely too pleased.

* * *

Yuuri's in his leather wear, sans coat, which gives a breathtaking view of his round thighs and firm behind. He has chosen to forego the coat, citing the reason that Kenjiro would have an easier time following the proper stances with a more visible bodyline – and, ah, what a line it is.

Seated on the floor chair next to Victor, Kenjiro clearly has the same thought – damn filthy kid – a line of drool running down the side of his mouth. The teenager says something bright and happy, to which Yuuri responds with an embarrassed laugh.

"You look so good in that outfit," the translator device says mechanically.

"Must you have that out, Victor?" Yuuri says, staring at the device on the coffee table. "I can easily translate for you while I'm around."

"It saves time," Victor says cheerily, just as the device translates their words into Japanese.

Kenjiro nods in agreement. "Oh, yes, I think it's convenient too," the device repeats.

"So what's the agenda for today?" Victor asks.

"Warm-up, bit of _aikido_ , some parkour moves, then meditation." Yuuri smiles at Kenjiro, who brightens like a 200-watt light bulb. "Though Minami-kun seems most interested in the parkour stuff."

Sighing, Kenjiro clasps his hands to his chin. "I think it's so cool how you jump and flip around like an acrobat when you fight," the device chimes.

Mentally, Victor makes Yuri's patented barfing noises.

"It is so weird hearing compliments twice in different languages," Yuuri flushes, rubbing at the back of his neck. The contour of his biceps deepens with the movement, and Victor wishes Yuuri would just forego his coat for every mission. "What are your plans for tonight, Victor?"

"TV," Victor lies smoothly. "I might be able to understand the variety shows now thanks to this handy little machine."

"All right," Yuuri laughs. "Have fun, I'll see you later tonight."

Kenjiro says something in greeting, waving vigorously as he follows Yuuri to the entranceway. "Enjoy your TV shows," the device says.

Grinning, Victor whips out his cellphone.

TO: Swiss  
 **[Any plans tonight?]**

FROM: Swiss  
[ **Why, is Yuuri busy with his student?]**

TO: Swiss  
 **[I've got a mission. Just us.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[Yep, Yuuri's busy with his student.]**

TO: Swiss  
 **[Ass.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[… is what you'd be eating if Yuuri weren't busy with his student.]**

TO: Swiss  
 **[Just. Meet me at the train station in half an hour.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[Sure thing, chief.]**

* * *

Squinting into the darkness, Christophe cocks his shotgun, cigarette smoke wafting into the air. "And so we're here, traipsing around temple grounds for an S-ranked _youkai_ , because you don't want Yuuri to think you've lost your faith in him?"

"Bingo," Victor beams, stringing an arrow to his bow.

"I _had_ to pick a foolish romantic as my hunting partner," Christophe chuckles.

Their target has been listed as a dangerous opponent, having slain a good number of exterminators since its sighting. An absence of survivors also meant a severe lack of information on the _youkai_ , with barely any descriptions of its physical appearance or abilities. In other words, not only are they going into the mission blind, but they're also about to face one incredibly powerful _youkai._

No wonder Phichit was so against Victor's acceptance of the mission; he must have heard the reports from Seung-gil beforehand.

"We'll be fine," Victor says as they stalk past a stone statue of some temple guardian. He keeps an ear out for sounds, bow arm tensed and ready for action. "Our teamwork is exceptional."

"Yeah, with demons." Christophe glances over at Victor. "Japanese _youkai_ , on the other hand… we've never hunted them alone before."

"We'll be fine."

"You said that already."

"So stop making me say it," Victor sighs.

There's no hiding it: they're nervous. The _youkai_ they've encountered have ranged from animals and humanoids, to strange, shadowy creatures with no shape or form. Unlike the case for demons, books on _youkai_ don't exist, and none of the exterminators seem to have a solid grasp on each type or even the myriads of abilities _youkai_ possess. _There are many_ seems to be the overall consensus, which isn't particularly helpful when embarking on a mission with zero knowledge of their _youkai_ target.

It means they could run into virtually anything on that wide spectrum.

(Bloody Seung-gil.)

"Onto a more lighthearted topic then," Christophe says softly. "What'd you tell your lover boy?"

"Nothing. I simply snuck out after he left for his training session with Kenjiro."

Christophe exhales smoke through his nostrils, chortling. "You're in trouble when you get home."

Victor's about to reply that it's all worth it, when he hears it – footsteps, clicking against the stone path of the temple, heading in their direction. Christophe hears it too; the Swiss has swung the shotgun to a firing position, spitting out his cigarette and crushing the embers with a heavy army boot in one swift motion.

At Victor's nod, they break apart to take cover behind the row of stone lanterns lining the path.

As the footsteps draw nearer, Victor inhales deeply, centering the rush of adrenaline on improving his aim. He waits, pulling the bowstring taut –

"Well," says a familiar voice.

"Looks like trouble found _you_ ," Christophe murmurs, just as Victor's bow slackens in disbelief.

Stepping out of the shadows is the figure of none other than his angel – coat on, weapon in hand.

"Victor Nikiforov," Yuuri growls, gold eyes narrowed into small slits. "You have some explaining to do."

* * *

Yuuri's angry.

Not exasperated, frustrated, or vaguely irritated – full on, red-hot, _furious_.

Victor has no clue how to handle an angry Yuuri, especially because he never thought his gentle angel was capable of such an emotion.

For better or for worse, Yuuri seems to express his rage by giving the silent treatment, so Victor decides to give him space and use the time to figure how best to pacify the other man.

Right now, his angel is striding on ahead, after curtly revealing that he had stumbled across something relevant to the mission during his search for them. Victor trails behind wordlessly, feeling like a dog that's been admonished by its owner for peeing on the couch cushions.

"How'd he find us?" Christophe whispers in his ear.

"Seung-gil," Yuuri says without looking back. "I called him the minute I came back to an _empty apartment_."

Victor winces, while Christophe flashes a sheepish look, "Ah, right, _youkai_ hearing."

"Yuuri," the Russian tries, "I didn't want you to worry - "

"Too late for that," Yuuri says wryly, and Victor feels his insides curl and shrivel into a ball of guilt.

They continue the rest of their walk in silence, with his Swiss partner lighting up a new cigarette along the way. The tension is probably driving Christophe into an anxious nicotine withdrawal; honestly, Victor could do with a cigarette himself.

Everything about this mission is shot to hell.

Yuuri's fury aside, he's supposed to be completing this mission without the exterminator. How can he possibly get any stronger for Yuuri, if the man in question is there to fight his battles every time?

And voicing that out at this point feels riskier than the actual mission at hand.

They traverse the temple grounds, dark and eerily quiet, lit only by the red glow of the occasional stone lantern. Passing the main hall, they soon follow Yuuri into a smaller building, entering a large room with Japanese paintings on the walls.

"Is this it?" Christophe flings his cigarette to the side, shouldering his shotgun. "What'd you find that's relevant to our target?"

Silent and still, Yuuri stands with his back to them, seemingly staring at something beyond their perception.

Then, his head lifts, soft giggles filling the air, and Victor feels every hair on his body stand on end.

The voice unmistakably belongs to Yuuri, but his angel's laugh is comforting, like raindrops rolling gently down a windowpane. This laugh is high and chilling, grating shrilly against a metal plate.

"Ah, please forgive my excitement, I've never met Western hunters before."

"What," says Christophe, just as the door behind them slams shut, the sound of a lock sliding in place.

Yuuri turns then. His face – the sweet, warm features that Victor knows and love – blurs into something sharp, something _hideous_. There's a glimpse of a gaping mouth and glistening fangs, seconds before the illusion snaps back, and it's Yuuri again, smiling, golden irises blown wide.

"I've never tasted them, either," giggles not-Yuuri.

And then he strikes.

* * *

It's a shape-shifter; that much is clear.

Why, where, and how the creature knew about their mission, knew to take Yuuri's form, are questions that they'll have to set aside for later.

The real problem is that, though the _youkai_ doesn't possess Yuuri's speed or agility, it's so brilliant in its emulation of the Japanese man that the imitation is perfect right down to Yuuri's unique weapon and fighting style.

Victor can't focus – can't fight back – not when it's _his angel_ bearing down on him, swinging the _sansetsukon_ with killing intent – his hesitation playing right into the _youkai_ 's plans. The creature's attack on him is relentless; it knows the effect its appearance has on him, taking wicked delight in seeing the desperation in Victor's eyes.

It's moments like these that Victor is grateful for Christophe's cold, unfeeling heart. The Swiss hunter isn't burdened by such moral dissonances; a demon is a demon – he doesn't even hold back in possession cases, nearly maiming the body of an innocent victim in a previous assignment.

Now, he's shooting without qualm _,_ bullets ricocheting off the walls and floor.

"Chris, _stop_ ," not-Yuuri screeches in rage, but the blond doesn't stop, doesn't waver.

Given _youkai_ 's unfamiliarity with guns and the enclosed space, it's only a matter of time before those bullets finally tear through its mark, but the scream that rings out is so distinctly _Yuuri's_ that Victor suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

"Victor," Christophe roars, tossing his shotgun and ripping out the rifle strapped to his back, "Get your head in the game! _That's not Yuuri_!"

Victor's teeth clack together in frustration, gritting them hard enough to hurt. He knows it's not Yuuri; his mind is more than cognizant of the fact. But his heart – his _heart_ –

Clutching at its bleeding arm – _it's not healing_ , Victor notes darkly – not-Yuuri lunges at him again. Victor side steps the attack and swiftly fires arrows in rapid succession, blessed tips slamming the _youkai_ against the wall behind, pinning the creature to the hard wood.

Anguished screams echo thickly through the room, rending his soul to _pieces_ , but no, damn it, _it isn't Yuuri_.

"The wretched creature's weak without its blasted mind games," Christophe spits, sliding his rifle back into its strap. "Kill it and let's go."

Nodding, Victor notches an arrow to his bow and points it towards the _youkai_ 's temple.

"Please," not-Yuuri pleads, eyes wide and terrified.

Victor's breath hitches, hand trembling.

"Vic," Christophe mutters. "Don't listen to it, don't – "

"Vitya, please don't hurt me," Yuuri cries, and oh god, what is he doing, what is he doing _to his angel_ –

" _Victor_ ," Christophe yells, and Victor snaps back to reality, shifting away, but not fast enough.

There's a spark of pain, sharp and sudden, and Yuuri's looking up at him – no, not Yuuri, not with that beautiful face contorted into a maniacal grin, or the blade of the _sansetsukon_ rammed clear through his shoulder, coated with his blood.

"Almost," the _youkai_ cackles, and Victor knows he's going to hear that laugh in his nightmares, "Almost got your hea—"

Christophe, with a startling vehemence, rams a pistol into the open mouth - _not Yuuri's_ , Victor reminds himself, bile and horror rising up his throat - and opens fire.

Finally, _finally_ , the creature morphs into its original form: a black, misshaped being with a large mouth for its face, before it dissipates into white lights, floating up to the ceiling.

Knees giving way in relief, Victor slumps forward into Christophe.

"Can't believe I let that creature ruin my best jacket," Victor laughs weakly.

"Armani's overrated anyway," Christophe jokes. Shedding his jacket, he tugs off his white singlet to rip it apart with his teeth, before wrapping strips of fabric tightly round Victor's wound. They've been at this job for so long, improvising first-aid comes naturally to them. "You owe me a new shirt, my friend."

"Oh, I owe you far more than a shirt," Victor states as they start to make their way out of the building, leaning on Christophe for support.

"I'll think of something," Christophe winks. "So, want to call uppity priest guy, or shall I?"

"I'll do it."

Four missed calls from his angel, Victor notes with a small smile, before looking up Seung-gil's number.

The curator picks up on the fifth ring – likely on purpose, the frosty bastard. He listens mutely to Victor's verbal report of the mission, before making a somewhat disgruntled noise. "So you succeeded."

"So I did."

"Hm," Seung-gil grunts. "And what have you learned?"

"What have I learned?" Victor's eyebrows furrow, turning to Christophe. The Swiss shrugs, shaking his head. "That _youkai_ are indeed varied and unpredictable?"

A sigh of exasperation follows. "What you faced was a youkai with psychic and shape shifting abilities; a temple guardian that granted the wishes of worshippers, before greed and ugly desires tainted its soul. It used its psychic abilities to grasp Yuuri's form – your greatest weakness. You're lucky you have a partner with a strong mind, or you wouldn't be talking to me right now."

"Wait," Victor's grip on his cellphone tightens, "You knew its abilities?"

"What I know or didn't know is of no matter now," Seung-gil huffs. "What, have, you, learned?"

"Besides the fact that you could've had us killed, not much."

"Must you be so obtuse to fine subtleties? Look, I chose this particular mission as a test." Victor inhales, , irritation spiking, while Seung-gil carries on. "Chulanont performed fairly well on his, I have to admit."

"Why would you – "

"If Gumiho turns into full youkai, his corrupted form will lose all humanity and he'll be nothing more than a man-slaughtering beast," Seung-gil interrupts sharply. "So this is my question to you, hunter, having so stubbornly refused to carry the seals that would banish Yuuri's fox. When the time comes, when the situation calls for it—"

"— can you kill Yuuri Katsuki?"

* * *

"Hey." Victor blinks, eyes flickering to Christophe. He turns his gaze back to the door; when did they arrive at his apartment? "You okay? That's some heavy shit the priest put you through."

"Yes," says Victor, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes."

 _("Your silence speaks volumes," Seung-gil says dryly. "This isn't fun and games, you realize. We're here to help Gumiho, but we know the stakes and the roles we must fulfill. We know what must be done."_

 _"_ _But to make that kind of decision without consulting Yuuri – "_

 _"_ _Gumiho requested it himself."_

 _"_ _The tests?"_

 _"_ _No," says Seung-gil, and a cold realization hits Victor like a stone to his heart. "Not the tests."_ )

"Gonna ask him?" Christophe asks quietly.

"Maybe," Victor murmurs, then closes his eyes. "I don't know."

"Not a fun conversation, I'd imagine."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Christophe shrugs. "It's pretty cruel, no? 'Hey, I told my closest friends to kill me if I go postal. Wanna join in?'"

Victor flashes a wry smile. "Point taken."

"I'm surprised Phichit went with it."

 _…_ _I promised Yuuri to do whatever it takes._

 _…_ _Once Yuuri has made his choice, I'll always support him for it_.

"I'm not," Victor sighs.

"Want me to go in with you?"

"No, I'll be fine." Victor claps Christophe on the shoulder. "Go home before you frighten old ladies with your getup."

Christophe grins, flexing his exposed abs beneath his jacket. "They'll be lucky to get a glimpse of these babies." Turning somber, he nods at Victor. "Let me know it goes."

Taking a deep breath, Victor unlocks the door and steps in. Instantly, he's bathed in the delicious scent of _katsudon_ , of _home_ – and his chest feels as though it's collapsing in on itself.

When Yuuri said he had given up, Victor never once considered death as an option. The thought of his angel, gone, never to grace him with that bashful smile ever again – it terrifies Victor. In that moment, Yuuri's agonized screams reverberate through his mind then, unbidden, and he almost succumbs to the urge to curl in a ball, hands over his ears.

"Victor? Is that you?" Yuuri appears at the entranceway, worry etched clearly across the soft features. "Where have you been? You weren't picking up your phone, and Chris wasn't answering his – a-are you hurt?"

Warm hands, so gentle – so different from the malevolence in the past hour – reach for his shoulder, pressing at the makeshift bandage. "You're bleeding! How did this happen? Was it a _youkai_ attack? Are you – _oomph_."

Victor yanks Yuuri abruptly into his arms, burying his nose into the nest of black hair. Grapefruit and pork cutlets drift into his senses, the mixture such an utterly ridiculous combination and so _Yuuri_ that Victor feels his throat burn.

(" _If you can't handle it, hunter, then I suggest you leave._ _Leave and take heart that you won't have to sully your hands with Gumiho's blood like the rest of us._ ")

He'd thrown away everything for a single impulse decision, only to discover a new love – and a new life. One where he is content and fulfilled to simply ride the same train, climb up the same stairs, and greet the same person, night after night after night.

The old Victor would look at him now, click his tongue at the mundaneness of it all, and wonder where it had all gone wrong.

Leave?

He can't possibly leave now.

Not when Yuuri needs him.

Not when _he_ needs Yuuri.

"I want to stay with you," Victor rasps, breathing in Yuuri's scents, every fiber of his being tangling in a building tension behind his eyes. "No matter what happens, I'll always be with you."

For a beat, Yuuri doesn't respond. Then, slowly, he feels slender arms circle his waist, lips curving against his neck. "I'd like that," Yuuri murmurs so very sweetly without question, and Victor unravels, tears spilling into the soft, black strands.

Screw "roles" and "requests" and "doing what must be done".

Till death do them part – and he will protect his broken angel until he draws his last breath.

* * *

The heavy door bursts open with such force, it rips away at the top hinge, twisting to the side with a groan.

Seung-gil barely has time to react, before a hand slams into his throat. He gasps, feeling his feet leave the ground, swinging helplessly in the air. Even with the breath strangled out of him, vision blurring, those gold eyes remain luminous, glowing with dark ferocity.

"Gumiho," he chokes, "Calm yourself – "

"What did you do," Yuuri growls, his fingers digging deeper, nails biting into skin. " _What did you do._ "

Seung-gil feels panic – real, genuine panic. He has witnessed Yuuri's devastating abilities on _youkai_ , but to actually experience them in person, with his charms beyond reach and Chulanont unavailable – "I can't," he claws frantically at Yuuri's hand, "I can't answer you like this…"

Yuuri lets out an animalistic noise, before he flings Seung-gil back into his chair. "Talk," he snarls, golden eyes flashing.

Peering through bangs matted with sweat, Seung-gil inhales greedily, filling his lungs with lost air. Yuuri watches him with an intense gaze, hips cocked to one side, fingers drumming on his arms in a distinctly human gesture. So the half- _youkai_ isn't entirely lost to the beast within him, but he's close, his anger tapping into the fox's primal instincts and further fueling the fire.

Seung-gil nods at Yuuri. "What do you want to know," he croaks, the words scratching painfully against his bruised throat.

"What you did to Victor."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Lee Seung-gil," Yuuri snaps, and Seung-gil flinches at the surge of raw power. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out? Victor comes home, dressed for combat, carrying his bow and arrows, _bleeding_ from a _gaping hole_ in his shoulder – and you didn't think all signs would point to you and your missions?"

"He chose to accept one," Seung-gil points out cautiously.

"After you goaded him into it, I'm sure." For a flash, Yuuri's face shifts into an expression of deep sadness. "The mission could've killed him, he could've _died_ – "

"And he didn't."

Seung-gil grits his teeth as he's hit with another blast of power; he really needs to stop with the provocative responses.

"No, instead, he's burdened with something far worse. He cried, you know. _Victor_ cried. He's always so refined and composed that I've never seen him cry outside of his movies, but he actually cried, saying something about wanting to stay, wanting to be with me…" Yuuri falters, before he draws a shaky breath, gold eyes hardening. "You told him, didn't you? About our contingency plan."

Seung-gil inhales. He has to proceed carefully; Yuuri is far too volatile in his current state. "We have a plan," he states. "Not the best one, but something concrete. The hunter's presence is an anomaly, and given how he insists in being involved in your affairs, I wanted to ascertain his intent, his _will_ , in ensuring your extermination." The curator sniffs disdainfully, unable to stop himself. "I didn't think it'd make him cry."

"Some of us have emotions," Yuuri says sharply, fingers curling into fists. "More importantly, I didn't want him involved! He was supposed to just dabble in _youkai_ extermination, finish with his filming, and _leave_."

"You live with the man, Gumiho. Did _you_ really think he'd be happy to just up and leave like that?"

And there's that sorrowful expression again. "I figured he'd get bored eventually. He usually does."

The most powerful being he knows on earth is also denser than a brick.

Seung-gil sighs, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't going to tell you anything until I could find more evidence, but it might be better for you to know after all."

Frowning, Yuuri crosses his arms again. "Tell me what?"

"You remember Morooka's big project, don't you?"

"Of course I do. _Sensei_ was working on a serum that would allow us to purify _youkai_ instead of exterminating them. He was hoping – " the Japanese exhales, "Well, I was hoping, it'd work on me."

Seung-gil feels a tinge of feeling for the other man – just a tinge. "There are rumors that Murase and his posse are creating a serum strong enough to corrupt a _youkai_ and heighten its base instincts. The id, as the psychiatrist Freud might call it."

Gold eyes widen. "You mean – "

"Right," Seung-gil nods, wincing at the motion. "The very opposite of Morooka's research. The worst part is, people say the recent increase in _youkai_ trouble is a result of their experimentations. If my hunch is correct, then your Minami kid was a guinea pig sent in to test your limits… maybe even to see how much of a dose is needed to draw the fox out for good."

"Oh," says Yuuri dully, gaze dropping to the floor.

"Your needless tendency to get worked up is exactly why I held back on telling you," Seung-gil grumbles. "I don't know how far along they are in this supposed project, much less the truth behind these rumors in the first place."

"But that's why you felt you had to test Victor, isn't it? So he wouldn't interfere?"

"That, and because he wouldn't even use seals on you. The fool's gunning to get us all killed with his stupid ideals of trust and love."

Yuuri bares his teeth like an animal, "His 'stupid ideals' are the only things giving me _life_."

When Seung-gil blinks impassively, Yuuri releases an explosive sigh, dragging a palm across his face. "I'll talk to Victor," he mutters after a while. "In the meantime, no more tests or missions. Not without informing me first."

Seung-gil massages his neck gingerly. "Fine."

As Yuuri turns to leave, Seung-gil raises his voice as far as it can go. "At least fix the entrance before you – "

A loud crunching noise echoes through the museum, before Yuuri hurls the oak door at Seung-gil's feet, a large dent in the thick wood. "All fixed," he deadpans, brushing splinters off his knuckles.

Dumbfounded, Seung-gil can only stare at the busted door.

"By the way," Yuuri adds, looking over his shoulder, "I think you owe Victor an apology for putting him in unnecessary danger."

Seung-gil lifts his head to see gold eyes slant dangerously at him.

"Only a suggestion, of course."

* * *

Notes

I rarely switch POVs within a chapter, but I felt this one was necessary for plot reasons, and also because Victor's image of his angel is so tinted he might as well be wearing 3D glasses lol.

Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Notes:** Sort of a meet the family chapter and - way too many reveals lol. Also, summer classes start next week and my research projects are back in full swing, so I'll have to dial back the updates to a bi-weekly schedule. :( Hope you enjoy the chapter, and as always, let me know your thoughts!_

* * *

The bus is packed, people squished against each other and into the seats.

It takes them a while to get settled, especially with medium-sized suitcases in tow, but Victor and Yuuri manage to squeeze their way into a spot at the corner end of the bus. The engine roars, and the crowd sways with the motion, sending Yuuri straight into Victor's chest.

"S-Sorr— _ow_!"

"Watch it!"

Victor stifles a laugh as Yuuri dips his head repeatedly in apology to the disgruntled man behind him. Still embarrassed by physical contact outside their _futons_ , his angel's immediate reaction was to jolt backwards – and slam the back of his head into some unfortunate passenger's face.

"You all right?" Victor lowers his head, murmuring right by Yuuri's ear.

"Just fine," Yuuri says, but Victor doesn't miss the shudder running through his body. (How can he, when they're pressed so firmly into each other, shifting only when the bus hits a bump in the road?)

They're on their way to visit Yuuri's family for the _Bon_ festival, a day when families reunite at their ancestral homes to visit and clean their ancestors' graves. The Katsukis are not Buddhist, Yuuri explains, but with people also using the three-day holiday for a vacation with their families, the festival is one of the busiest periods of the year for his family's inn. It has thus become tradition for him to visit each year so as to assist at the inn. The only guest Yuuri has ever brought with him is Phichit, so Victor is honored to be second (even as he wishes he were the first).

Since Victor's injury, Yuuri seems to have developed the habit of inquiring about his whereabouts every few hours, no different from a mother worrying over an errant child. Victor can't blame the other man; he hasn't talked about the injury, and Yuuri never asked. (He did wake up in a cold sweat that one time, Yuuri's screams echoing in his head, but Yuuri simply held him until the shaking went away.)

They haven't talked about Yuuri's "request", either.

So when Yuuri brings up his family visit, Victor is beyond thrilled; it will give him a chance to escape the burden of his newfound knowledge, at least for a while.

More importantly, Victor is about to meet Yuuri's family – the very people responsible for birthing such an exquisite human being.

"How should I address your parents?" Victor asks.

"It's up to you, really," Yuuri says, adjusting his glasses. "Most people call them by their first names, even the regular patrons."

"And what are their first names?"

"Oh, ah, my mom is Hiroko, my dad is Toshiya."

"Hiroko and Toshiya," Victor says, trying the syllables on his tongue.

"Good enough," Yuuri says, smiling.

"You said you have a sister?"

"Mari. She's uh," Yuuri's smile slides into a grimace, "Honest."

"Honesty is usually a good thing," Victor chuckles.

"Usually."

Something vibrates in the vicinity of Victor's left thigh. As Yuuri tugs his cellphone out, Victor bites his cheek before he cracks a lewd in-your-pocket joke that will undoubtedly make Yuuri uncomfortable. He can't have Yuuri tuning him out in the back of a packed bus.

"Looks like Yuuko will be joining the welcome party," Yuuri says, glancing at the screen.

"Ah, the famous Ms. Yuuko," Victor purrs throatily.

Yuuri laughs, returning the cellphone to his jeans pocket. "Say it like that, and you'll have her unconscious in seconds."

"That's part of the fun," Victor grins.

Victor spots the entrance to Yuuri's family inn as soon as the bus nears their stop. The archway displays banners with round, homely Japanese characters, reminiscent of Yuuri's general mild-mannered aura. It's adorned with lanterns: red lanterns lining the top and sides of the gate, stone ones standing guard in front. Full and large, the trees on either side of the entrance add to the picturesque scene, branches swaying with the warm summer breeze.

Two women wait at the archway. The brunette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, ponytail swinging, while the other looks bored, scratching idly at the hairband in her dark hair, blond tips fanning messily round the back like an untamed mane.

"Yuuko and Mari," Yuuri introduces, seconds before the brunette leaps toward Victor with her hands outstretched, tears streaming from her wide, wide eyes.

"Oh my god, Victor Nikiforov, _here_ , in _person_ , and I'm _touching Victor Nikiforov_ – "

Victor barely makes out Yuuko's words as she clutches his hands with a viselike grip, blubbering on about every movie he's in, every role he has ever played – or, at least, that's what he thinks she's saying. Yuuri's efforts to console her are fruitless.

It's only after several minutes of uncontrolled gushing that the bored-looking woman finally steps up to yank Yuuko aside.

"Breathe or you'll pass out," says a robotic voice.

The woman twists round in surprise.

"I told you to leave that at home," Yuuri chides.

"But it's so convenient!" says Victor. "Watch." Holding up the little translator device, he approaches the woman and smiles winsomely. "Hello, you must be Yuuri's sister, Mari. I'm Victor Nikiforov."

The device translates his words, adding an odd emphasis to the tail ends of his name.

Raising an eyebrow, Mari responds.

"That bald spot looks a lot bigger in person," intones the device.

Victor's smile freezes as though someone had ripped a section of some promotional movie poster and plastered it on his face.

 _Bald spot?_

"Um," says Yuuri, mouth twitching, "I'm sure it's just not good at picking up our regional slang."

"Did you… tell your family about my complex?" Victor says stiffly.

"Of course not!"

Victor's smile doesn't falter even when Yuuri starts to push at his shoulder, claiming that they shouldn't keep his parents waiting.

This is not the heartwarming introduction Victor had envisioned.

* * *

Yuuri's parents are kind and hospitable and everything Victor anticipated - thank god. (Yuuri had to have gotten his angelic traits from _somewhere_ , after all.) After pulling Yuuri into a tight hug, Yuuri's mother releases her son and greets Victor with similar enthusiasm, reflected in the deep bow she performs when she turns to him. A step behind, Yuuri's father bows as well, at a smaller angle, but no less reverent.

Unsure of the cultural proprieties, Victor decides to bow in return, dipping his head as low as it can go.

Mari walks by, snorting.

"Someone drop something in here?" says the device in Victor's pocket.

"Mari- _neechan_ ," Yuuri huffs. His parents straighten, laughing good-naturedly.

("Honest" is one way to describe Mari Katsuki, thinks Victor.)

Mari shrugs, "We've got tons of customers, so put on your apron and get to work. Yuuko's already in the kitchen."

"Let me show Victor to his room first."

"Fine. Come by when you're done."

"She's just a little stressed," Hiroko says, throwing her arms round Yuuri for one last squeeze. "We're all so happy to have you home again."

"Thanks mom," Yuuri's face softens into a smile, and Victor melts, glad he brought the translator device despite Yuuri's objections.

They don't have much time together after that, especially with the rush of customers that arrive after them. Apologetic and looking oh-so-cute in an apron, Yuuri leaves Victor in one of their largest guest rooms – a sizable space divided into a sitting area and a room for the _futons_. After unpacking his suitcase, Victor slips into the _yukata_ he finds in the closet and heads out for a walk around the inn.

Wandering without direction, he chances upon a little garden in the back: small but serene, filled with moss-covered rocks and soft yellow flowers. In the pond, koi fish glide through the waters, light reflecting off the shiny scales.

But it's not the simple beauty of the garden that catches his attention.

By the small bench, in a patch of sunlight, lies a brown labradoodle, mouth open, tongue lolling. The lack of a collar seems to indicate its status as a stray, yet the finely groomed fur tells a different story. The labradoodle's ears perk up as Victor approaches, long tail thumping hesitantly against the ground.

"Hello," says Victor softly. He crouches down, holding his hand out for the dog to inspect. Once a pink tongue licks his hand in approval, he raises it to stroke the soft fur, murmuring, "I wonder where you came from?"

"Oh!"

Victor looks back, blinking.

Blushing furiously, Yuuko covers her mouth, stammering, "Um, sorry, I didn't mean to – that is…" she inhales, "I, I just thought it's cute to see Vicchan finally meeting his namesake."

"His namesake?"

"Didn't Yuuri- _kun_ tell you?" says Yuuko in surprise. "He, um, named his dog after you."

Victor glanced back at Vicchan, who cocks its head, tail thumping harder against the garden soil.

Just when he thought his angel couldn't be any cuter.

* * *

"Well he's handsome and very sweet," Yuuri says, eyes trained on his food, cheeks dusted pink. Every so often, he drops a hand under the table to pet Vicchan, whose fluffy head rests comfortably on his lap.

"So that's how you've always seen me," Victor teases.

"He also comes and goes as he pleases and occasionally shits in the dining hall," Mari says wryly.

Victor's face falls after hearing his device's translation.

"Let's not talk about such things at the dining table," Hiroko chides gently.

It's close to ten when the family finally sits down for dinner, taking advantage of the lull in customers. Victor doesn't complain – _won't_ complain – because he's in his angel's family home, and he has to make the best possible impression. Also, Hiroko's cooking is indeed legendary and so worth the wait.

He makes sure to point that out to Hiroko, who titters, waving her hand up and down in obvious delight.

Mari shakes her head. "Is he always like that? All the flowery words and extravagant gestures?" she whispers to Yuuri.

"Most of the time," Yuuri whispers back.

"You are _so_ lucky, Yuuri- _kun_ ," Yuuko sighs deeply.

"I was going to ask how he stands it," Mari says.

"The device is catching everything you say," says Victor indignantly.

"Excuse me~!" calls a feminine voice, "Is this a bad time?"

"Ah, Toshiya, it's Minako- _san_!" Jubilantly, Hiroko leaps off her seat, tugging a smiling Toshiya with her to the entrance.

"Minako?" Victor slides a grain of stray rice into his mouth. He doesn't miss the way Yuuri's eyes traces his finger's movement, up till it slips past his lips. After a deliberate suck, he pulls the digit out with a pop, meeting the other man's gaze. Yuuri's Adam apple bobs, before he quickly averts his eyes, flushing.

Ah, Victor's lips curve, so his angel isn't quite so innocent.

"Minako- _san_ is a dance instructor," Yuuko supplies, oblivious. "She owns a studio just a few bus stops away and comes to the inn for drinks at night. Yuuri- _kun_ and I have taken some of her dance lessons!"

Victor beams at Yuuri. "You dance?"

"And this is exactly why I've never brought it up," Yuuri says, ducking his head in embarrassment. "I took dance lessons, but I don't dance."

"Please, please come in." Hiroko reappears, ushering in a slender woman with long auburn hair that cascades past her shoulders. She's dressed plainly – a cream-colored shirt and three-quarter denim pants – but her good looks shine through, complimented by the little beauty mark beneath her left eye.

"Minako- _san_ is here, everyone," Hiroko announces.

The group choruses a hello in unison, Yuuko waving brightly.

"Sorry to interrupt your dinner," Minako says with a wave in return. "I'll just take my usual spot in front of the TV." She raises an eyebrow, eyes flickering over to Victor. "You're a new face."

"That's Victor, Yuuri's friend," Toshiya says, stepping back into the dining hall with a bottle of Japanese _shochu_ in hand.

"Oh, Yuuri's friend." Minako flashes a broad smile, switching to perfect English, "Nice to meet you, Victor."

"Likewise," Victor replies smoothly.

Yuuri, he notices, starts to take his bottom lip between his teeth.

Something about Minako clearly makes Yuuri nervous, but Victor can't imagine why. The lady looks normal (read: human) enough, right down to her mannerisms as she shares a drink with Toshiya, sprawled across the _tatami_ mats like a homeless person taking a nap in the corner of a subway station.

When he asks Yuuri about it after dinner, his angel shrugs, eyebrows knitting in a frown.

"I can't explain it," Yuuri says in a hushed whisper, pushing at his glasses, "But I feel… uneasy around her. Like something bad is going to happen if I stay near her."

Together, they glance over to Minako, who's now singing some off-tune melody into an empty _shochu_ bottle as though it were a microphone, brushing off Hiroko's suggestion to _please lie down in your usual room, Minako-san_.

"She looks harmless." Victor hides a smile as Hiroko heaves the inebriated woman to her feet. Barking, Vicchan prances after them, apparently just as amused by the sight.

"She generally is." Yuuri shrugs, "But if there's anything I've learned about the supernatural world, it's to always listen to your instincts. That's why I quit her ballet lessons after a few weeks."

"You dance _ballet_?" Victor says, lighting up like a beacon.

"So not the point," Yuuri laughs. "Anyway, why don't you start on the hot springs first? I'll join you after I'm done cleaning the kitchen."

Slinging a towel over his shoulder, Victor hums a light tune under his breath as he makes his way to the bath. In a few minutes, his eyes are going to be exposed to the smooth, creamy skin that he had only fantasized or viewed in agonizingly teasing glimpses, and he fully intended to drink in the glorious sight – appreciate it just as art is meant to be valued and treasured, torturously unattainable. It's a wonder that his angel is perfectly fine with nudity in a hot spring, but turns into a blushing mess in any other context.

What was it they say in Japanese?

Hot springs, _banzai_?

"… Yuuri doesn't suspect a thing."

"And his friend?"

"He knows only what Yuuri tells him."

Victor pauses. There's a door left slightly ajar, voices sieving through the gap. One of the voices distinctly belongs to a particular co-worker of his, but the other is unfamiliar: soft and quiet, yet ringing with the authority of a commander on a warfront.

What on earth could Leo be doing at the inn, and why hadn't Victor run into him all day?

Carefully, Victor presses against the wall and inches closer to the open door.

"Which isn't much, then. Any movement from the Society?"

"Not a peep," Leo grunts. He sounds gruff, all traces of his friendly tone gone. "Not since the Minami boy."

"They're finished with the serum, they _must_ be."

"I've been watching Yuuri. There hasn't been a single exterminator."

Reaching the gap, Victor peers in.

There are three in the room, huddled round a coffee table in the sitting area. Leo's back is facing the door, seated across is the _youkai_ mate Victor recognizes from Leo's instagram pictures, and the third –

Victor swallows a yell, as an extremely sober Minako turns to look straight at him, eyes slanting.

Gold eyes; brilliant and luminous as his angel's.

"Guang Hong," she says softly.

"Yes, Minako- _sama_."

Guang Hong's form blurs, and suddenly, he's right in Victor's face, swinging the hilt of a strange-looking sword downwards, hard and fast.

The loud crack against his temple is the last thing Victor hears before his vision turns black.

* * *

Something cold is dripping down his neck.

Victor groans, swats at the offending object, and groans again at the pain that reverberates through his head.

"Stay still, for heaven's sake," says the commanding voice. "You're making it worse for yourself."

Slowly, the Russian opens his eyes to see Minako gazing down at him with an irritated expression, a makeshift ice pack in one hand. She must have wrapped a bunch of ice in a handkerchief; that would explain the cold wetness on his forehead.

"Why help me after trying to kill me?" Victor hisses.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic," Minako sniffs. "No one was trying to kill you. Guang Hong just doesn't know his own strength sometimes."

Seated in the corner of the room, the cat _youkai_ lifts his head at his name, and blushes. "Sorry."

"Who are you?" Victor sucks in a breath as Minako pushes the ice bag against his bruise. "All of you?"

Guang Hong shifts awkwardly, the sound of blades clinking as he moved. "We mean no harm."

"That's what villains say when they – " Realization strikes, and Victor sits up abruptly, fiercely ignoring the jolt of pain that shoots down his spine.

Only two of them have been speaking.

"Where's Leo?" he demands.

"Victor," Minako sighs, "Calm down – "

" _Where is Leo_?" Victor's panic surges, numbing the pain. "If he hurts Yuuri, I – "

"I said – " A flash of gold, and Minako begins to glow, brown hair rising off her shoulders and into the air, " – _calm down_."

Stunned, Victor falls silent.

Like an off switch, Minako returns to normal, shoving Victor with surprising strength into a lying position. "I've asked Leo to distract Yuuri," she says, dabbing the ice bag lightly on Victor's temple. "Can't have him looking for you and stumbling into something he doesn't need to know."

"From what I've heard, I think Yuuri has every right to know," Victor mutters.

"You don't know what you're up against," says Minako.

"Not if everyone keeps us in the dark like this," Victor frowns. "Yuuri said you make him uneasy."

"I make his fox uneasy," Minako snorts. "Their lack of communication makes it hard for Yuuri to separate his own feelings from the _youkai_ 's."

"Your answers only prompt more questions."

Minako lets out a long exhale. "Very well. As Yuuri's mate – don't look so surprised; you _reek_ of his scent – I suppose I owe you some sort of explanation. Perhaps you will also come to understand our choices."

At her nod, Guang Hong moves to stand by the door with his weapon.

Without the veil of fear clouding his vision, Victor sees now that Guang Hong's weapon consists of twin swords, both blades flat and broad, edges curved like giant kitchen knives. Each hilt sports a small crossguard that Guang Hong is grasping now, wielding the hilts as blunt melee weapons.

No wonder his head hurts like a bitch.

Minako clears her throat, drawing Victor's attention back to her. Chin lifting, she begins, "Before Murase, before his _youkai_ -hating agenda, I was head of the Saga branch of the _Youkai_ Extermination Society. At the time, Murase was but a member, a new member, one who had just begun his training as an exterminator."

Victor blinks in astonishment. "They allowed a _youkai_ to head the branch?"

"I am half- _youkai_ ," Minako says, eyelashes lowering. "And I am the reason Murase hates us."

"What was the – "

"It doesn't matter now what the reason was," Minako cuts in, shaking her head. "Regardless, it's after I left the Society that I met Yuuri. Hiroko had signed him up for dance classes, thinking it would 'bring him out of his shell'. You must understand that half- _youkai_ are extremely rare, so I was beyond excited to meet another like me. But as you said, Yuuri was afraid of me – or more accurately, the fox within him was scared – so I was forced to seek another method of remaining in contact with him."

"I had an ally in the Society, a human one. He had pledged his service to me, determined to carry out the project I had started before I left – a serum that could purify any _youkai_ of its corruption. His name is Hisashi Morooka."

"Yuuri's mentor," says Victor, eyes growing wide.

"Correct," Minako says, nodding. "He wasn't an exterminator by any means, more of a researcher, but he quickly took to the task of acting as Yuuri's mentor, sharing my teachings with Yuuri in my stead."

"Unfortunately, Murase caught wind of Morooka's activities, and he knew immediately I was behind them. He threatened Morooka, so for Morooka's safety, I instructed him to leave the prefecture and continue his research in secret. Murase was so tainted with blind hatred that I knew he would want to kill Yuuri as a way of exacting his revenge on me. That's why I dispatched my _shiki_ to watch over him and his family."

At Victor's puzzled look, Minako gestures toward Guang Hong. " _Shiki_ are _youkai_ retainers, bound by contract to their exterminators."

"So they're forced…?"

"Leo and I are happy to be of use to Minako- _sama_ ," Guang Hong protests instantly.

"In any case," Minako flashes a soft smile at the _youkai_ , before turning grave. "We have come to the heart of the matter. Murase is attempting to create a serum that will strengthen the primal instincts of a _youkai_ , corrupting its soul and turning it into a being that seeks nothing but blood to curb its appetite. It's not clear, but we believe he might have succeeded."

Victor shoots up again, vision blurring from the sudden pain. "Then Yuuri's in danger," he gasps, clutching at his head, "We have to tell him – "

"Yuuri knows," says Guang Hong quietly.

"What? But how…"

"Seung-gil told him. I watched the entire conversation while staking out his office."

That goddamn secretive _dick_ of a priest, thinks Victor.

"But he doesn't know that Murase might have the serum ready for use and he doesn't know about me." Minako glances at Guang Hong. "About us. It's best not to alarm him; his _youkai_ is aggressive enough as it is, fueled by his darkest emotions. Any more, and he won't be able to suppress the beast."

"Wouldn't he feel better knowing that Morooka's alive?"

"Not the way he is now. He'd feel worse knowing he's the reason for Morooka's exile. At the very least, he certainly won't appreciate hearing that his whole life has been an elaborate ruse."

That does sound like his angel.

Victor draws in deep breaths, feeling his head pound like a drumbeat, old wound in his shoulder throbbing. Not a week passes in Japan without some kind of information overload, and it's starting to take a toll on his wellbeing.

He can't even begin to imagine how Yuuri must be feeling.

Someone – something – scratches on the door.

"Who is it?" Guang Hong asks, lifting his swords.

Someone chuckles, "Your mate, love," and Guang Hong brightens considerably.

He opens the door, and the brown labradoodle pads in, tail wagging.

"Best for Victor to return to Yuuri now," says the dog in Leo's voice. "There're only so many times I can get Yuuri to chase after me for a customer's shoe."

"Oh my god," says Victor. " _You're_ Vicchan? You're the handsome and very sweet dog?"

Leo's mouth opens, his jaw stretching in a playful grin. "Hi. Would've told you if I could, but it'd blow my cover."

Victor had so many questions, so _many_. For instance, how long has Leo been spying on the Katsuki family in this form? Why turn up in his human form at all? Why isn't Yuuri's fox reacting to him? _Has Leo shared a bed with Yuuri before?_

Most importantly:

"You shit in the dining hall!?"

"They think I'm an untrained stray!" Leo barks, while his mate shakes his head solemnly. "I had to keep up appearances!"

Victor turns to Guang Hong. "Do _you_ 'keep up appearances' too?"

"I'm a cat," Guang Hong says, looking as if the Russian has just insulted his entire lineage. "I mostly monitor Seung-gil and Phichit's movements on the outside, anyway."

Minako coughs loudly. "Might I suggest you return to Yuuri before he gets suspicious?"

"Fine," Victor sighs. He rises with the help of Minako, stumbling to the door. "You know," he frowns. "You never explained why Yuuri is – why Yuuri's fox is so afraid of you."

"That's because it is rightfully wary of my _youkai_ half."

"Which is?"

"A dragon," says Minako, smiling serenely.

* * *

Victor has trouble sleeping that night.

In addition to his head threatening to implode, he can't stop his worries for Yuuri, which of course, doesn't help said imploding head. There's far too much he doesn't understand about this world and its politics. How can he be of any help to Yuuri when there's always some new information brought to light, some curveball that no one anticipated? Finding a cure for his angel is hard enough without a vengeful exterminator set on speeding up and heightening the transformation.

Sighing, Victor rolls to his side slowly.

To make matters worse, he has gotten so used to sleeping with Yuuri pressed against his side that the _futon_ feels empty now – far too empty.

"Victor?" says a voice hesitantly at his door. "Are you still awake?"

Victor bolts upright, before swearing inwardly. It definitely felt like something imploded in his head right then. "Yuuri?" he manages after a while. "What's wrong?"

"I, um, I can't sleep. So I was wondering if I could…"

"Yes," Victor says, heart soaring. " _Yes_."

As Yuuri slides into his arms with a contented sigh, Victor draws him in close, soaking in the familiar sensations, letting them ground him.

"You took a long time to get to the hot springs tonight," Yuuri says sleepily. "I thought you'd be in there before me, what with Vicchan leading me in a chase all over the inn."

Victor twitches at the mention of the labradoodle. "I… went out for some ice cream."

"Ice cream? You mean the convenience store?"

"Mm hm."

"But it's right down the road."

"I was lost in thought and went in the opposite direction."

Yuuri shifts, lifting a leg to rest his knee warmly on Victor's thigh. "What were you thinking about?"

"About…" – _your real mentor actually being a half-dragon lady who was also your dance instructor and who currently has two youkai spying on you on her orders; how your life is in danger thanks to a maniac who wants to force out the worst of your youkai because of some petty spat with that same half-dragon lady; oh, and the discovery that your dog is also my co-worker_ – "… how lucky I am to have met you."

"Silly," Yuuri mumbles, curling further into Victor. "But I'm glad I met you, too."

That night, Victor wakes up in cold sweat again, but Yuuri's right there with him.

* * *

The rest of the _Bon_ festival passes without incident. (Yuuri thinks otherwise, after that one drunken episode when Toshiya and Victor performed a two-man comedy duo on tabletops to the cheers of the other patrons, manipulating the mouths of crudely drawn clown faces on their bellies. Victor considers it a wonderful bonding memory.) Hiroko takes to calling Victor 'Vicchan', an affectionate nickname that – in spite of its association with a certain dog _youkai_ – sends tingles of warmth right down to his toes, far quicker than the Japanese _sake_ Toshiya popped the other night. Yuuko actually manages a coherent conversation with Victor at one point, discussing the merits of his character's actions in his last spy movie. Even prickly, sarcastic Mari softens around Victor, addressing him by name instead of "oi" and "hey".

On their last day at the inn, Hiroko taps on Victor's shoulder and leads him to a quiet corner away from the entrance, where Yuuri is saying his farewells to Yuuko and the rest of his family.

(Leo is present as well, playing his part as the lovable stray. Dog form or not, Victor's not at all pleased with how tightly Yuuri embraces the labradoodle.)

"Take care of Yuuri, Vicchan," Hiroko says, aided by the translator in Victor's pocket. She clasps Victor's hand tightly between hers. "He may act like everything is fine, but a mother knows her son."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Victor lays a hand over Hiroko's. "I promise."

They find seats on the ride home, and Victor keeps a hand over Yuuri's knee for the entire journey, sitting close enough for their thighs and shoulders to touch. Yuuri doesn't pull away.

And life returns to normal.

Despite Minako's assurance that she will send news through Leo, Victor remains on high alert for suspicious activity during and outside of missions. Phichit remarks that he's being "extra jumpy" these days, which Victor passes off as method acting for his movie role. Yuuri compliments him for his diligence, and Victor feels awful for lying to his angel yet again.

As the weeks go by with no sign of an attack, Victor gradually relaxes his vigilance, little by little.

By the next month, Victor wonders if Minako is merely being overly cautious, or if everything he experienced at the inn was some nightmare concocted by his overactive mind.

And then, even after everything that happened at the Katsuki home, the summer award for Strangest Thing Ever goes to Seung-gil pulling him aside one mission to apologize for his injury.

"Does this have anything to do with your missing door?" Victor asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Just take the apology and shut the hell up," Seung-gil grumbles.

("Can we get the mission details now?" Phichit calls, grinning. "Kinda drafty in here."

Yuuri laughs. Seung-gil, surprisingly, chooses to ignore the remark.)

The mission that night is simple: rid of an infestation of spider _youkai_ that are devastating crops and feeding on hapless people who wander into their webs at night. The creatures are ranked at a B-level, more for their sheer numbers than their abilities.

With that knowledge in mind, Yuuri has Christophe and Kenjiro join the mission, much to Kenjiro's delight.

Near the mission location, as always, it's his angel who takes the reigns, gold eyes bright in the darkness. "Most insect _youkai_ have a leader – a queen. Spider _youkai_ might be different, but unless we know otherwise, we stick to the plan of Phichit and I clearing the path and luring out the queen for the rest of you long-range fighters to take it down."

Turning, he provides a quick translation to Kenjiro, who nods with determination.

"The kid's a long range fighter?" Christophe asks, tilting his head at the teenager.

"He has been training with _kunai_ ," Yuuri says with some pride. Kenjiro gives a toothy grin, recognizing the positive tone in his mentor's voice. "He's gotten better with commanding his _shikigami_ as well."

"Got to give credit to the teacher, too," Phichit points out.

"Hear, hear," says Christophe, clapping loudly.

"T-Thanks. Anyway, we should start on the mission." Flushed with embarrassment, Yuuri turns round to stride stiffly away.

The spider _youkai_ are quick to sense danger. Flooding out of their hiding spots, they charge at the group in large scores with loud shuffling noises, millions of red eyes blinking in the dark woods.

As Yuuri and Phichit head into the fray, Victor notes for the first time that the two best friends have distinct fighting styles. Calm and composed, Yuuri walks through the hordes of _youkai_ as if he's taking a stroll on the beach, swinging his _sansetsukon_ like a deadly spinning fan of blades and slicing down any that come close. Phichit is more haphazard but no less lethal: he sprints through the hordes with his back bent at a sharp angle, slashing at any _youkai_ foolish enough to stand in his path.

"SO COOL," Kenjiro squeals in English, stars in his eyes.

Chuckling, Christophe spits out his cigarette and cocks his rifle. "Can't have our Eastern comrades take all the glory, can we?"

Victor strings an arrow to his bow, smirking. "First to take fifty?"

"First to take a hundred _and_ the queen."

"You're on."

Victor wins, though Christophe complaints incessantly about how he miscounted several shots.

As the team makes their way home, they're still bickering over the bet, after Kenjiro and Phichit have left, and even after Christophe himself has gotten on the bus for his motel.

FROM: Swiss  
 **[We should ask Kenjiro. He's the most partial.]**

TO: Swiss  
 **[He didn't pay any attention to our shots.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[And yet, he's still ten times more reliable than your supposed arithmetic abilities.]**

Victor laughs, "Chris can be such a sore loser sometimes. Don't you think so, Yuuri?"

When the other man doesn't hear a reply, Victor looks up from his phone. "Yuuri?"

Slowly, Yuuri blinks back in a strangely languid manner. His eyes had long dulled from the gold, but there's an odd haze in them now, adding a glassy look to the otherwise rich chocolate brown.

Oh no, thinks Victor. No, no, nonono.

"I don't feel so good," Yuuri says.

And then he falls, eyes rolling back, and Victor's heart takes a flying dive to his _knees_.

" _Yuuri_!"

* * *

Notes

Sorry not sorry.

Feel free to squeal with me or even drop me headcanons (as a number of you have ;) ) on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Notes:** I've tossed in a new original character, in honor of Japanese folklore. Also, lots and lots and lots of Minako. Please enjoy, and as always, I would love to hear your thoughts!_

* * *

 _The doors fly open, and Murase stumbles in, falling to his hands and knees in the middle of the office. The block of ice around his right arm slams against the marble floor with a sharp clunk, cracking slightly on impact._

 _Leo pauses in the middle of his report as Minako rises to her feet in alarm. On her right, there's a hiss of steel; Guang Hong has drawn his twin blades. "Murase, what on earth – "_

 _A gale of wind swirls in, and the temperature of the room plummets. White crystals, whipped into a frenzy by the gale, pelt against unguarded skin, clinging to eyelashes and hair._

 _Slowly, the wind calms, vortex falling to reveal the form of a small girl within its center. Garbed in an elegant kimono, one might have described her as human, were it not for the blueish tint of her pale skin, or the pure whiteness of her long, flowing hair._

 _The girl takes a step forward, wooden clogs clacking against the marble floor. Murase cringes._

 _"_ _So you have no qualms with slaughtering the weak, but you run to your master when you face one more powerful than you," she says softly._

 _Murase protests feebly, "I didn't – I had no idea those youkai were your underlings – "_

 _"_ _They were my children," the girl says, edged words slicing through Murase's words like a knife. "And they have never harmed a human, as per our agreement." She fixes her eyes on Minako – irises as blue and clear as a cloudless, noon sky. "Is that not right, daughter of Kasenushi?"_

 _"_ _You are correct, Yuki-dono," Minako inclines her head in deference, blinking away the frost on her eyelashes. "I'm afraid my student here can be somewhat thoughtless when it comes to youkai extermination."_

 _"_ _Thoughtless?" Yuki coyly lifts a sleeve to blue lips. "I may have considered one attack 'thoughtless', but this is the third time the human has ignored my warnings."_

 _Both Leo and Guang Hong suck in a breath._

 _"_ _Is this true, Murase?" Minako hisses._

 _"_ _I thought they were evil," Murase mutters, "I thought they were contaminated – "_

 _"_ _This is a clear breach of contract, daughter of Kasenushi." Yuki's smile doesn't falter, air growing colder as the soft flakes dance in a flurry around her form. "Surely you don't wish a youkai war upon your head?"_

 _"_ _No, of course not," Minako says, gritting her teeth._

 _Only a fool would challenge Yuki; the ice deity is capable of creating a blizzard that could blanket Hasetsu City with frost and snow in minutes. Worse, youkai place an inordinate amount of faith in oral agreements. Murase's dishonorable actions would spread across the region, and they would surely lose the peace that Minako had worked so hard to maintain between humans and youkai._

 _Time and again she had taught Murase that youkai were good until provoked. She had advised him that extermination was not a numbers game. She had warned him against angering formidable opponents._

 _Yet, time and again, the ambitious, obstinate, foolish man persisted in exterminating every youkai in his path._

 _Taking a deep breath, Minako nods to Murase. Her student – ever full of arrogance and cheek – is now trembling on the floor, thoroughly cowed by the ice youkai's aura. "Would it appease you to know that he will be punished for his indiscretion?"_

 _"_ _Hmm~" Yuki raises her gaze to the ceiling, tapping her lips. "Perhaps." Hands falling, she clasps them in front of her in a deceptively submissive gesture. "I would be far more appeased if I were allowed to decide his punishment."_

 _"_ _And what would that be, if I may ask?"_

 _"_ _As humans say, 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth'." Yuki cocks her head toward Murase. "Tell me, murderer, do you have children?"_

 _"_ _Yuki-dono," Minako says in surprise, just as Murase begins to weep like a child._

 _"_ _Please," he begs, "Please, I'll do anything…"_

 _"_ _I suppose that answers my question," Yuki says serenely over Murase's pleas. Her smile turns razor sharp. "What will it be, daughter of Kasenushi? The lives of all the humans you claim to protect, or the lives of this human's children?"_

 _"_ _That's not a fair choice," Leo growls._

 _"_ _Oh, but Inu-san," Yuki turns to the shiki, blue eyes widening with innocence, "I am giving your mistress a choice out of respect for her heritage."_

 _Her "heritage", indeed. Despite his love for her human mother, the great river dragon Kasenushi has always disapproved of her involvement with the human world. It was his belief that the impurity of the human spirit would bring about her downfall, just as the many youkai who fell to corruption before her time._

 _How irksome for her hypocritical father to be right._

 _Minako bows, low and deep. "What if I were to offer myself? A leader should take responsibility for her people."_

 _"_ _Minako-sama," Guang Hong gasps._

 _"_ _How noble," Yuki giggles, "But that will not avenge my children. No, I want the human to feel my pain, to witness his own blood die a slow death as I freeze them…"_

 _White flakes spin together to form the tiny replica of a human, its mouth open in a silent scream as ice creeps up its flailing body._

 _"…_ _inch by inch by inch."_

 _The shape falls away in a whirl of cold dust, and the ice youkai smiles beatifically. "You have my word that I will abide by our agreement and harm no one else."_

 _Minako closes her eyes and draws in another breath. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few; choosing to save Murase's family would either doom the prefecture to becoming a frozen wasteland at best, or start a full-blown war across the nation at worst. Her decision is clear, but the responsibility carries the weight of millions – no, of three adorable scamps admiring her scales and declaring their intent to be a dragon when they grow up._

 _"_ _Sensei," Murase sobs, crawling towards her, a hand outstretched. "You wouldn't do that to my girls, would you? After all the time you've spent together? You'd side with me, a human – "_

 _"_ _The other youkai lords will not hear of his betrayal?" Minako says softly, eyes still closed. The familiar pangs of a migraine are starting behind her eyeballs, and she can't bear to open them for what she's about to say next._

 _Yuki traces a line across her lips. "My lips are sealed."_

 _"_ _Then," Minako exhales, shoulders sinking, "Do as you see fit."_

 _The ice deity laughs, "A wise decision."_

 _"_ _NO," Murase roars. It's the last word Minako hears from her unfortunate student. She opens her eyes in time to see white snow enveloping his thrashing figure, sweeping him out of her office in a whirl of wind._

 _The silence that follows is suffocating._

 _"_ _Minako-sama," says Leo, his eyes still as soft and moist as the small brown mutt that showed up one day at headquarters begging for scraps. "You did the right thing."_

 _"_ _Did I?" Her throat feels raw, growing dry and swollen with guilt, anger, and sorrow. "Then why does it feel so wrong?"_

* * *

Victor is starting to feel the fringes of panic: a discomfort in his chest, his brain in overload and on excess caffeine. He hasn't slept for two days. Couldn't sleep for two days. Not when Yuuri is lying next to him, silent and so, so still. Occasionally, his angel makes a pained noise that has Victor scrambling senselessly to his side, but he doesn't wake, doesn't open those beautiful brown eyes and grumble about the brightness of the early morning sun. Victor wants to shake him, beg him to _get up, please get up_ but he knows it won't work because he _has_ done that (several times), and Yuuri doesn't get up. Yuuri doesn't get up at all.

Everyone has something to say. Seung-gil insists that Yuuri's delayed reaction rules out venom from the spider _youkai_ they fought; venom effects would have been instantaneous, causing painful welts and even paralysis at the point of the bite. Phichit swears that it was just him and Yuuri on the field; he didn't sense anyone else. Chris reckons Yuuri's mental exhaustion may have finally caught up with his physical body. Kenjiro thinks – well, Kenjiro hasn't said very much. If he's not sitting stiffly by Yuuri with his bottom on his heels, fists curling and uncurling against his knees, he's wrapped around Victor in a tight bear hug and bawling his eyes out, young and lost and scared.

Victor wishes the others are more like Kenjiro. The boy has the right idea: why say anything at all, if you have nothing useful to say? No one knows what caused Yuuri's condition. No one knows _why_ he's in this state. No one knows _anything_ , and they can't bring him to see a normal human doctor, not when there might be a supernatural cause.

The feeling of helplessness, of not being able to do a _thing_ when Yuuri makes those soft whimpering sounds, constricts Victor's throat with every passing minute, as if he's being strangled by the very air around him. All he can do is wait, and pray that Yuuri will open his eyes, sit up, and declare it all to be one _mean_ , elaborate prank.

Approximately 20 hours, 3 minutes and 14 seconds on day three, Leo finally appears at their doorstep.

"You look like hell," Leo says, shedding his jacket and shoving it haphazardly into Victor's arms as he hurries to Yuuri's still form. "Have you been eating at all?"

Scowling, Victor flings the denim wear on the dining table. Who has the energy to hang up a stupid jacket right now? "Forget me, what took _you_ so long to get here? I texted you hours ago. Aren't you supposed to be watching over Yuuri?"

"Hey, I'm spread thin monitoring Yuuri _and_ his family," Leo objects. He crouches down to press his hand against Yuuri's forehead. "No fever. Any bites, scratches, or markings of any sort?"

Hovering close, Victor shakes his head. "Seung-gil said it couldn't be spider venom – "

"So no one thought to check?" Leo interrupts incredulously.

Victor bristles at the unspoken accusation. What aggravates him most is that Leo is _right_. "We just never thought – " He chokes on his words as the _shiki_ throws off the covers and begins to casually rip Yuuri's shirt open. "What do you think you're doing!?"

Leo looks up, hands clutching the torn fabric, eyebrows raised. "Examining him?"

"That's Yuuri's favorite shirt! A merchandise for one of my movies!"

Thick eyebrows inch a tad higher. "You… dressed him in his favorite shirt while he was unconscious?"

Victor gives his fiercest glare. "I want him to feel comfortable when he wakes up."

"Is that a human thing," says Leo, mouth twitching, "Or just you?"

"Look, just – look over him without destroying his clothes."

"Fine, fine," Leo laughs, high and light despite the circumstances. He bends over and carefully begins his examination. Brushing back black hair, he begins with Yuuri's forehead, meticulously inspect every inch of skin. Then, slowly, he draws a finger across Yuuri's cheeks, down his jaw, the line of his neck, and ending, finally, at Yuuri's chest.

"Anything?" Victor asks. His back is starting to twinge from hunching over for so long, but he doesn't care.

"Nothing yet," Leo replies absently. "But I wonder…" Shifting, he slips hand to the back of the Yuuri's neck. And then he hitches a breath.

"Ah," he says.

Victor straightens, inhaling sharply. "Ah? What do you mean, ah? What'd you find?"

Gently, Leo rolls Yuuri's head to the side. Hidden beneath the tiny strands of hair at the nape of Yuuri's neck is a puncture in the skin: the size of a pinhole, barely visible to the human eye.

In that instant, Victor feels his insides burn with anger and _shame_ – anger at Seung-gil for making assumptions at Yuuri's expense; shame at _himself_ for failing to cover all the bases, like checking Yuuri for _marks_. If Yuuri doesn't recover – Victor lowers his head and bites the inside of his cheeks, hard.

No. Yuuri _will_ recover.

He _has_ to.

"I know what you're thinking," Leo mutters, tugging the covers up and under Yuuri's chin. "It's not the spiders."

Victor's eyes snap up. "It's not?"

"There should be two holes with a spider bite, but there's clearly only one." Leo frowns. "If it's what I fear…" He lifts a hand to his lips and chews on a nail in a distinctly human gesture. "I didn't detect anyone during your mission though."

"That's what Phichit said," Victor agrees, eyebrows furrowing. "What is it you fear, exactly? Murase?"

"Yeah, I'm just afraid it might be a dart dipped in – " Leo ceases abruptly, eyes widening. "The spider _youkai_."

"The spider _youkai_?" say Victor, confused.

Leo nods. "There were so many of them, they masked the scent of everything else around them. Or every _person_ around them. Which means that – "

There's a low growl, like the sound of an animal on the prowl.

"Oh boy," Leo sighs. He throws up a hand, and something flashes a rich emerald green, seconds before sparks fly in a sharp, metallic _clang_ that bounces off the white apartment walls.

Eyes glowing, Yuuri growls again, deeper and harsher, claws dragging shrilly across Leo's flickering shield.

"Well," Leo turns to a stunned Victor, "At least he's awake now."

* * *

It's raining outside: still and quiet, droplets tap-tapping against the window panes.

Yuuri loves the rain. Every rainy evening, he'll be at the window, hunkered down in a dining chair with knees tucked under his chin, cheek resting on the cool glass. Rain is best in the summer, Yuuri tells Victor once; the sensation rivals a cup of cold lemonade in the muggy heat. And then his cheeks press into the glass, rising in a smile as warm as the summer breeze, and Victor comes to love the rain too.

But Yuuri isn't at the window.

He hasn't dragged a chair from the dining room, hasn't called for Victor to join him, hasn't pulled his legs up and released a sigh of contentment.

Yuuri is –

"C'mon friend, it's me," Leo coos softly. "We're packmates, remember?"

Yuuri snarls.

"Yeah, didn't think you would."

Leo shoves him off and, just as the half- _youkai_ lunges forward again, rapidly draws a square in the air. Instantly, translucent green walls in the shape of a box manifest around Yuuri, who smashes into a side with a hiss of pain.

Victor whirls on Leo, anger surging. "A cage? Yuuri isn't a beast!"

"A _barrier_ ," Leo corrects as Yuuri slams bodily into the sides, making enraged noises. "And I'm pretty sure we're not dealing with Yuuri anymore. Not with Murase's serum taking effect."

Victor's heart kicks in his chest. "Serum? But how…?"

"I have an idea, but now's not the time." Leo glances at the barrier. The walls are wavering; Yuuri's next body slam sends ripples through the green surface. "Call for reinforcements. I'll get Guang Hong and inform Minako- _sama_."

Victor reaches into his pocket and pauses. Christophe wouldn't know how to handle the situation, Kenjiro would be a terrified, blubbering mess, and Seung-gil can't fight, unless standing by the wayside and mouthing off counts as combat. Reinforcements would mean Phichit, and Phichit equals a promise made between best friends, and Phichit never breaks a promise.

"Let me talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to reason," Victor says, stepping towards the barrier.

"Hang on a second, love." Leo lowers the phone from his ear. "I don't know if that'll…"

When Victor lays a hand on the green entrapment, Yuuri quiets, gold eyes trained on the hunter with a penetrating stare.

"… work," Leo finishes. "Huh."

Victor lets out the breath he was holding. Yuuri recognizes him – or, at least, the fox recognizes his mate. If Yuuri's supposedly functioning on his primal instincts, he shouldn't be sentient enough to comprehend words. Still, it's worth a try.

Resting another hand on the barrier, Victor murmurs, "We're trying to help you. Murase's done something awful to you… to Yuuri. And we want to make it right. Won't you let us help?"

Yuuri stares at him for a minute longer, before the bright eyes flicker to Leo. The _shiki_ has resumed his conversation over the phone, back turned away from the barrier. Victor understands.

"He means no harm. He's your, uh," Victor quickly recalls the word Leo used, "Packmate, right? He's just… afraid. For you. For us."

Yuuri huffs in response, the forceful exhale blowing his bangs off his face. The action is so reminiscent of human Yuuri that Victor's face softens into a smile. His angel also needs a haircut, but that can wait. First, they have to figure out what exactly happened to Yuuri, how this damn serum actually works, or even whether the serum is in him at all.

Without warning, the green wall vanishes and Victor topples forward into Yuuri's arms, nose bumping into the lean shoulder. He feels Yuuri's growl vibrate against him, before he looks up and discovers, with chagrin, that he's now _inside_ the barrier.

"Leo," he snaps as he rights himself, "An explanation, if you please?"

"Sorry," Leo lowers his free hand with a sheepish grin, "But your scent seems to calm him. This way, we might actually be able to hold him until Minako- _sama_ arrives."

"That just won't do, I'm afraid."

Leo spins round, hand buzzing with bolts of green, but it's too late: the intruder claps a charm on his temple that sizzles on his skin and has him screaming. Leo's cellphone falls, Guang Hong's voice growing louder and more frantic through the speaker, as the _shiki_ morphs into a large white dog with glowing crimson eyes. Anguished howls rip through its throat, tail smashing into furniture with its writhing. There's chanting, and then the dog – with one last desperate, futile snap of its giant jaws – is sucked into a clay urn.

"Word of advice." Murase slaps a lid with a seal into the mouth of the urn, lips curling. "Might want to consider locking your front door."

Before Victor can react, the barrier falls, and Yuuri leaps at the exterminator with the roar of a wounded animal.

* * *

" _I'll kill him_ ," Guang Hong snarls, eyes flashing blood red.

"Guang Hong, stop," Minako yells, snatching for the small _shiki_ , but he's faster, fueled by sheer vengeance. Within seconds, he's out of the cave, leaving them in tense silence.

"Oh, hell," Morooka mutters, hands trembling as he tilts a test tube filled with pink liquid over another. "You know I don't work well under pressure."

"We don't have much of a choice now, do we?" Minako snaps. She slams her palms on the counter, test tubes and beakers shaking from the impact. "You said we're close! If we don't get an antidote done soon, _someone's_ going to get killed, and half-bloods and their _descendants_ will be hunted to extinction!"

"Yeah, that's really helping with the whole pressure thing," Morooka says dryly. He manages to transfer the pink liquid without too much spilling. "Wouldn't it be better for everyone if Yuuri or Guang Hong kills the prejudiced fool?"

"Yuuri's half- _youkai_ and Guang Hong's the _shiki_ of a half- _youkai_ ," Minako counters. "How would that look to the rest of the Society?" Her voice drops slightly, tinged with sadness. "They're more inclined to listen to their fellow humans as it is."

Morooka shoots Minako a sympathetic look. "Look, why don't you go help them? Just keep your cellphone on you so I can track you down when I'm done."

"But you – "

"I'll be fine." Morooka gestures around him. "If Murase hasn't found this lab in the mountains for this long, I doubt he'll know its location now."

Minako hesitates, before she nods. "Very well. Call if anything goes wrong."

"Doesn't Yuki- _dono_ live around here?"

" _Youkai_ protect only their own," Minako says wistfully.

Morooka watches as she starts to float, silvery blue scales climbing across her exposed skin, black hair lengthening and curling behind her in gentle waves. And then she soars away with a blast of speed, the wind blowing his rough, uncut hair back over his forehead.

How anyone could want to harm such magnificence is beyond him.

Scratching at his unshaven fuzz, Morooka turns back to his experiment with a sigh. Right, back to work – the fate of half-bloods rests on his shoulders and all that.

* * *

Victor barely has time to explain the situation to Phichit when the yaksha arrives. There isn't much to explain, really.

The forest near Yuuri's apartment are strewn with bodies, the air pungent with the smell of blood.

Murase's attempt at an ambush had failed miserably and nearly cost him his life. It took all of Victor's strength to yank Yuuri off the exterminator, who seized the chance to scramble out of the apartment, clutching at his bleeding chest. Ignoring Victor's fevered whispers to calm down, Yuuri had ripped out of his grasp and bounded after Murase. Even with a team of exterminators running to their leader's defense, Yuuri's fox, ignited by pure animalistic fury, tore through them with frightening brutality.

And then Guang Hong flew into battle with the force of a hurricane, twin blades twirling through air and flesh like a pair of deadly silver butterflies.

The exterminators had fled in terror, but by then, the damage was done: Yuuri – no, Yuuri's fox – had reverted to a primal state, and even shy, reserved Guang Hong had gone mad with grief.

It's a miracle Murase is still alive.

"What's Murase's game?" Phichit says, grimacing as they run past what looks like a severed arm dangling from a tree branch. "If he _did_ inject the serum into Yuuri, he should've known Yuuri would be on a killing streak. What good would an ambush do?"

"He didn't account for me," Victor says, holding a wrist to his nose, fighting hard to contain his nausea. The overwhelming stench is churning his stomach.

"What, the thing about your scent calming him down?"

"If Yuuri doesn't attack anyone, Murase can't prove that Yuuri's dangerous to humans… or too dangerous to be kept alive."

"So he follows you back to Yuuri's apartment and pisses off the fox, just to _ensure_ Yuuri's killing spree." Phichit hisses through gritted teeth. "What could Yuuri have done to offend this nutjob?"

"It wasn't Yuuri," Victor says grimly, adjusting his quiver strap with one hand.

Phichit arches an eyebrow, but nods at the object in Victor's hold instead. "Care to explain why you're carrying that pot around?"

"It's Leo," Victor replies, left arm tightening round the urn. "I couldn't get the seal off, so I was hoping you could. It's the only way to show his mate that he's alive."

"Wait, Leo? Like Yuuri's _youkai_ friend? And he has a mate?" Phichit shoots Victor a hard stare. "You're telling me there's another vengeful _youkai_ out there?"

As if on cue, the ground pulses with raw energy, almost knocking them off their feet. The next shriek drives birds out of the trees, leaves flying.

" _TOUYA MURASE_! Come and face me, you murderous coward!"

"That would be Leo's mate and Murase's second miscalculation," says Victor.

"Perfect," Phichit deadpans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

There's a cracking noise – a sonic boom – before Minako lands in a spot between them, dark hair billowing around her like a cape. At least, Victor surmises it's Minako, based on the beauty mark that is visible even above the shiny scales in lieu of human skin.

"We can still stop those two from further violence," she chokes out, shock and horror and _pain_ reflected clear as day in the bright gold orbs. "Take care of Yuuri, I'll handle Guang Hong."

And then she's gone.

(So _that's_ how an emotionally healthy half- _youkai_ should look, thinks Victor.)

"Right," Phichit says after a while. "I'd ask why no one called me sooner, but let's just conclude that there's a lot I don't know, release that poor _youkai_ , and go find Yuuri."

Victor grabs his arm. "Don't kill him. Please. Leo can make barriers; he might be able to contain Yuuri again once he's released."

Phichit unsheathes his sword, face darkening. "No promises."

* * *

Guang Hong lets out a cry of relief when Leo spills from the unsealed urn, whimpering, and curled in a white fuzzy ball. Dropping his swords, he rushes to his mate's side, tugging the dog _youkai_ into his arms with a gentleness that was absent in his delirious need for revenge.

Minako drifts slowly to the ground, immensely glad that a fight with Guang Hong has been circumvented. "Leo, thank heavens."

Cracking an eye open, Leo chuckles weakly, "What kind of _shiki_ would I be if I was exterminated so easily?"

"I thought I lost you." Guang Hong shakes, tears pouring down, cleansing traces of blood on his face. "You were in so much _pain_ …"

"Silly kitty." Leo spreads his jaws in a wolfish grin and laps Guang Hong's cheeks with a large, pink tongue. "I'd never leave you alone like that."

"Ew, dog breath," Guang Hong whines, but he buries his nose in the white fur, and allows a deep, rumbling purr to roll out of his throat.

Minako fondly watches over her _shiki_. Now all that's left is Yuuri. Already, she can hear the sounds of clashing weapons some distance away; Victor and Phichit must have engaged Yuuri in combat. (The other exterminators are too cowed to fight now, even in self-defense.) Murase's plan may have succeeded, but she won't stop protecting Yuuri.

"I hate to interrupt, but do you think you could hold Yuuri down?" Minako asks Leo, who hums pensively in response.

"I'll need a bit of rest," Leo concludes, tongue rolling out. "And even then I don't think I can manage more than one barrier."

"Minako- _sama_ , he can't even return to his human form," Guang Hong protests.

"Actually, I just like it when you scratch my ears in this form."

Minako smiles indulgently as Guang Hong swats at his laughing mate. And then almost leaps out of her scales when something vibrates in her back pocket.

"I'm on the way," Morooka says cheerily on the other line. "With a surprise."

"My _shiki_ and secret protégé have effectively slaughtered a bunch of exterminators tonight," Minako sighs. "I'm done with surprises."

"Trust me; you'll like this one."

* * *

The fox, Victor realizes, hates Phichit with a passion.

It must know of the promise Phichit made, and is now fighting harder than ever to prevent Phichit from fulfilling it.

Or maybe it just really hates Phichit.

The second Phichit appears in its line of sight, it crushes an exterminator's head into a tree trunk, and then attacks Phichit with a snarl, neglecting the remaining exterminators.

("I'd run if I were you," Victor flashes a winsome smile at the terrified men, who turn and disappear into the forest without a second glance.)

Their fight is so fierce and so _fast_ that Victor can hardly follow their blurry figures with his eyes. It's like his first mission with the lizard _youkai_ , but without Yuuri's heightened sense of sight to save the day.

Honestly, Victor's not exactly sure _how_ he can help, much less save the day. Back home, he's one of the most feared demon hunters, the heir to the Nikiforov line. Here, he's nothing, unable to even rescue the man he loves. His teeth clenches together so tight that it hurts, his stomach boils, and he fumbles in his attempt to string an arrow – an attempt to do _something_.

Then, finally, an opportunity presents itself.

There's a momentary lull in the fight when Phichit slams against a tree, letting out a noise like a punctured balloon.

As the yaksha slides down with groan, Victor springs in front of him and spreads his arms wide. Yuuri – the fox – freezes, his claws inches away from Victor's neck.

"Enough," Victor says softly.

If he can't hurt Yuuri, if he can't kill him, then it shall be his duty to _stop the madness_. (Take that, Lee Seung-gil.)

Pulling his arm back, the fox looks torn, gold eyes narrowing in bewilderment. And for a second, just a second, the blood-covered features soften, and Victor is reminded of rain, of cicadas, of warm summer breezes.

That is, until Phichit shoves him aside to ram a blade through Yuuri's side.

 _No._

As Yuuri falls with a howl, Victor tackles the yaksha down before he can make another strike.

"Are you mad?" Phichit shouts, beating at Victor's shoulder and arms. Yuuri's sprawled on his back, teeth bared and breathing heavily. The wound has already begun to close, healing swiftly on the spot. "This is our only chance!"

"You can't kill him," Victor heaves, "Yuuri's still in there. He's alive! I just _saw_ him – "

"Christ, Victor, I know he's still in there, but _Yuuri's not coming back_."

Victor falters. He was expecting Phichit to deny Yuuri's presence, to say that Yuuri's gone. He wasn't expecting Phichit to agree with him.

Phichit speaks over his stunned silence, pointing at the smashed head of the exterminator nearby, limbs still twitching in its death throes. "Do you honestly think Yuuri would do _that_? Or live _knowing_ he's going to _continue_ to do that? Yuuri asked me to kill him because he couldn't bear the thought of living in a body that would go on killing people, a body that's out of his control!"

Shaking his head, Victor persists. "But if Yuuri's still in there, then how could you even think to – "

"Do you think I _want_ to kill Yuuri?" Phichit blurts out in a yell. His voice cracks and his eyes well over, strong demeanor crumbling into something damaged, and scarred, and so _vehement_ that it almost knocks Victor backwards. "Do you even _know_ how I felt when I passed Seung-gil's stupid test? No, you don't, because you had _Chris_ to do the dirty deed for you. You want to know how I could think to kill Yuuri? Because my best friend in the whole, wide world knelt down in front of me and _begged_ me to end him when he turned!"

"I…" Victor swallows, heart hammering in his ears. It's the first time he has ever seen genuine emotion in the Thai man. Hell, it's the first time he's ever seen Phichit Chulanont _cry_. And he doesn't know what to say, so he says the first thing that comes to mind:

"I'm sorry."

A swell of quiet, broken only by Phichit's labored breathing.

Suddenly, the temperature takes a nose dive around them, and white snow starts to fall, sticking to their cheeks and eyelashes. In amazement, Victor looks up to find Minako gliding down towards them, accompanied by a pale girl in a _kimono_ , carrying a scruffy-looking homeless man in bedraggled clothes, bridal-style.

"Where's Yuuri?" Minako demands, while the girl lands next to her, and unceremoniously dumps the man onto the forest floor.

"He was," Victor glances around in dismay, "Just here."

"Damn it," Phichit swears, banging a fist on the ground.

Leo pads out from between the trees, Guang Hong in his original form – a big black cat; of course – by his side.

"I can sniff him out," Leo offers.

"And I have a cure," the homeless man says perkily, holding up a tiny bottle containing a bright orange liquid. "Now we just need a plan to inject it in him!"

"You have a _what_ ," Victor and Phichit exclaim in unison.

"Leo, Guang Hong, find Yuuri," Minako commands. "Victor, Phichit, ride with Leo; we'll explain along the way."

Victor exchanges a glance with Phichit, before they obediently clamber onto the back of the huge dog _youkai_ , who has lowered his body to the ground for easier access.

Next to them, the pale girl rolls her eyes heavily as the homeless man stretches his arms toward her with a beam of childish delight.

"Thank you for riding the Leo Express," Leo quips once they're safely onboard. He sniffs at the forest floor once, twice, before he begins to lope off, hard muscles bunching and loosening rhythmically under the white fur.

"Keep your hands and feet inside at all times," he adds.

Beside him, Guang Hong giggles appreciatively at the joke, stretching in a more graceful run.

Grasping a fistful of fur, Phichit releases a long sigh. His eyes are still red, still damp, but he seems to have calmed since his earlier outburst. "Is this how you've felt the past few months? All the information overload?"

Victor nods, clapping a hand on Phichit's shoulder. "Welcome to my world."

* * *

Notes

Yuki is a portrayal of _Yuki Onna,_ or the snow woman, in Japanese folklore.

So we're seeing a little more of the _youkai_ society now. They do have a hierarchy, with more powerful _youkai_ sitting at the height of power as lords or "deities", and they have _youkai_ that serve and worship them, just as humans serve and worship their monarchs. Certain species, like dragons, are automatically near the top of the food chain, if not _the_ top, because of their celestial powers. Minako commands respect among _youkai_ simply because of her father being a dragon; unfortunately, being half makes her weaker than the _youkai_ lords or deities at the top. Yuki, for instance, is much, much stronger than she is.

For those who might be curious, Minako's oral agreements with the _youkai_ lords and deities are still in place with Murase at the helm, so he did learn a lesson. He just learned the wrong lesson: don't mess with pure _youkai_ , but half _-youkai_ are a different matter altogether. Doesn't help that neither _youkai_ nor human really care about half- _youkai._ :(


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Notes:** A shorter chapter but no less action packed? I hope? _

_We're nearing the end, my lovelies!_ _Thank you so much for following the story this far. (*_*)_

* * *

Leo moves fast: rummaging through leaves with his paws, sticking his nose in mud, and then they're off again, loping with big strides. Yuuri's run appears aimless, zigging and zagging in random directions through the forest.

Clutching Leo's white fur, Victor tries desperately to quell the roll of nervousness in his stomach. There's no telling what they might find when they locate Yuuri; he can only hope that his confused angel hasn't come across an innocent human on his route.

"So let me get this straight," Phichit says next to Victor, "You're Morooka, you've been alive this whole time, and you've developed some sort of purifying antidote to Murase's evil-inducing serum?"

"Got it in one!" Morooka says cheerfully, raising a thumbs-up.

Phichit turns his gaze upwards to Minako, who's gliding smoothly through the air. "And you're a half-dragon _youkai_ who's Yuuri's actual mentor, Murase's former mentor, and the master of these two _shiki_ we're riding on?"

"You catch on quick," Minako says, grinning.

"Then who's the _youkai_ carrying Morooka?"

"I am merely here to observe the fool's serum." The pale girl shrugs, white flakes swirling gently round her form. "It will be beneficial for all _youkai_ if it works."

"Also, I needed a lift," Morooka says in a loud stage-whisper.

"That is Yuki- _dono_ ," Guang Hong chimes in, while Yuki very nearly drops the researcher to the forest floor, "She governs ice _youkai_ in the region."

"About the serum," Victor cuts in before Phichit can raise any more questions, "How do you propose we get Yuuri to take it?"

Limbs wrapped around Yuki like a koala, Morooka lets out a sheepish laugh. "Yeah, see, I was hoping one of you had a blowgun or something…"

"You brought the antidote with no means of using it?" Victor says incredulously.

"I don't work well under pressure," Morooka protests.

"Fool," Yuki sniffs, but makes no move so shake him off.

"Hate to interrupt," Leo glances back, nostrils flaring, red eyes glowing. "But we're close. His scent's getting strong."

"Anyone else in the area?" Minako asks sharply. "Exterminators? Civilians? _Youkai_?"

"Nope, just him."

"Right then." Minako floats closer to the ground crew. "We need a plan."

* * *

With Yuuri in close promixity, they have to move fast.

The discussion is swift, and the decision: unanimous.

Within minutes, Phichit is swinging onto Guang Hong's back, the cat _youkai_ bounding into the darkness.

And in minutes, Victor will have to face his worst nightmare.

* * *

Seung-gil sinks into a chair with a sigh of content. Gumiho may be unconscious for some inexplicable reason, but the society hasn't shown signs of movement, no _youkai_ attacks have been reported, and the neighborhood convenience store has finally restocked his favorite brand of oolong tea.

The night is quiet, and he fully intends to savor this rare moment of tranquility with a warm cup of –

A giant, black paw bursts through the entrance, ripping the oak door clear off its hinges. And then it withdraws, seconds before the head of a cat, far too large, slams unsuccessfully into the door frame, shooting an armored figure off its top to land right in front of Seung-gil with a perfectly executed forward roll.

Frozen, the priest stares at the intruders, cup tilted, oolong tea dribbling down his chin.

"Seung-gil, meet Guang Hong," Phichit gestures at the giant cat, brushing dust and wood splinters off his armor. "Guang Hong, Seung-gil."

"Hello," says Guang Hong, pupils dilating. The head shudders once, before it shrinks down to the size of a normal cat, which pads quietly into the office. "You might've seen me around," he says shyly, dropping to his haunches.

Slowly, Seung-gil sets his cup down, picks a tissue, and dabs gingerly at his chin.

So much for a quiet night.

"I just had that door fixed," he says after a moment, rising to his feet.

"Eh, you'll work it out," Phichit waves his hand flippantly, and Seung-gil bristles. "Listen, you wouldn't happen to have a blowgun and darts lying around, would you?"

"Why would I have a blowgun and darts – "

"Didn't think so," Phichit interrupts. He holds his hands out, beaming. "Then may I have Victor's old silver-tipped arrows? Pretty please?"

Seung-gil shoots a heated glare at the yaksha. "Why on earth would you need those things? Silver does nothing to a _youkai_."

"That's why we need them," says Guang Hong.

"Now," Phichit adds.

Seung-gil frowns. He wants answers – he wants answers right now – but he also recognizes the urgency in Phichit's voice. And the Thai yaksha is almost never anxious.

Something must be wrong with Gumiho.

Scowling, he jabs an index finger at Phichit, "When this is over, you owe me an explanation and a new door."

"Done and done," Phichit says cheerily.

* * *

The plan is simple.

After rejecting the idea of passing on the antidote via mouth-to-mouth – "No," Minako tells Victor primly when he persists – they quickly reached the agreement that the last and only option is to herd Yuuri to the open field where there's less places for him to hide, trap him with Leo's barrier, and use an unblessed arrow dipped in serum.

As always, there's a catch: Leo's strong enough for only one barrier.

And Victor is the only archer.

If the Russian hunter felt nauseated before, it's nothing compared to what he feels now.

The others have reassured him that the injury from an unblessed arrow will be the equivalent of a bee sting for a _youkai_ – sharp enough to be an annoyance, but not at all effective enough to cause harm. Regardless, harmful or not, it means he has to, with his own two hands, fire an arrow into the love of his life.

The thought is enough to make his hands shake, his insides stumble in dread.

"Best to get it close to the heart," Morooka says, thumping a fist against his chest, missing the shadow that crosses Victor's face. "It'll send out the serum a lot faster."

"Morooka," Minako hisses, gaze darting to Victor.

Morooka grins, oblivious. "He's got regenerative abilities, after all! With an unblessed arrow, he'd be totally fi – _ow_!"

Minako lifts her foot off the researcher, who hops away to clutch the crushed appendage in agony. "What Morooka means to say is that Yuuri's a lot tougher than you think he is."

Victor shrugs and forces a smile. He appreciates her efforts, but nothing short of knocking him unconscious will make him forget the enormity of his upcoming task. "How do we know the serum works?" he opts for asking instead.

"Well, uh," Morooka turns shifty-eyed, "We – "

"Don't have a choice," Minako says, far too hastily. "It's the only way to help Yuuri suppress his fox at this point."

Victor stares at them, eyes flicking from one to the other in disbelief. Fury starts to rise within him, swirl and surge like a growing inferno, and he latches onto it, glad for the perfect distraction.

"It's untested," he guesses quietly.

When the pair doesn't respond, he raises his voice, feeling deep satisfaction in the way it echoes off the icy walls around them, loud and accusing and angry. "You expect me to shoot some unknown serum into Yuuri without testing it first?"

"Shhh." Teeth bared, Leo sticks his head into the makeshift igloo. "This ice thing might help with masking our scents, but it's not exactly soundproof."

"Indeed," Yuki says, idly fortifying the igloo with a touch of her hand. "Though I wonder if there is any material that can soundproof humans."

As if on cue, Guang Hong bursts through the trees, while on his back, Phichit holds up a cluster of arrows wrapped in thick cloth.

"We got the arrows!" he exclaims triumphantly.

In unison, the team shushes Phichit, and Minako hastily shoves him into the igloo.

"The serum is untested," Victor dryly informs Phichit as he stumbles in.

"Are you serious?" says Phichit. He whirls on Morooka, who is trying in vain to sneak out of the icy structure. "We came up with this crazy plan, and _now_ you're telling me the serum might not work?"

"The serum might also work," Morooka huffs. "Must we all be so negative?"

"More importantly, _we don't have time_ ," Minako snaps, snatching the arrows from Phichit's arms and tossing them to Victor. The men flinch when she lets out a feral snarl, eyes flaring gold. "Unless you have a better idea, the serum is our only hope. Now, take the serum, switch out your arrows, and let's put this crazy plan into action."

"At least she acknowledges it's crazy," Phichit mutters to Victor.

* * *

Resting on an exposed tree root, Yuuri leaps to his feet when they approach. Eyes slanted, he backs away slowly. His side has healed completely, with no visible indication of being wounded mere moments before, but the blood on his face, his hands, his clothes – the once scarlet blood has dried on his skin, crusted and brown.

Victor feels his heart wrench at the sight; Yuuri would fall to pieces if he saw his own reflection in a mirror right now.

"Why isn't he attacking?" Phichit asks quietly, drawing his sword out with a hiss.

"Even a wild animal knows when he's facing an apex predator," Minako replies, flexing her claws absently. "Leo, standby."

"Yes, Minako- _sama_." In a puff of smoke, Leo reverts to his human form, looking slightly paler than usual. Beside him, Guang Hong transforms to lay a hand on Leo's shoulder, face softening with worry.

"Right, the forest edge is to the east, so – stop him, he's going the wrong way!"

At Minako's shout, the team flies into action.

Thrusting a hand forward, Yuki sends a flurry of ice and snow into Yuuri's path, and Yuuri skids to a halt, growling, before whirling to bolt deeper into the forest. Minako's sharp blast of wind drives him in a different direction, but it takes a second blast to finally set him on the right course. Phichit, meanwhile, has hopped into the treetops, following Yuuri's run in the shadow of the canopies.

As planned, Victor joins the _shiki_ in hastening to the edge of the forest while the rest of the team herds Yuuri to the meeting point. He's glad that Yuuri isn't putting up a fight, but his tremors have returned, stomach clenching and rolling in waves. Whether he's shaking out of fear, exhaustion, or both, he can't tell anymore. It has been hours since Yuuri's fox surfaced, and coupled with his sleep deprivation, he has to summon every drop of his energy to drag his feet, painfully and wearily, across the forest floor.

But he won't complain – not in front of the _youkai_ who was just sucked into an urn.

As they step out of the forest and into the field, Leo gives him a sidelong glance. "You okay?"

"Just fine," Victor lies smoothly.

"It won't hurt him," Guang Hong says. He looks so miserable that Victor starts to feel sorry for him. "I know that doesn't help to hear, but even if the serum doesn't work, even if it's just the arrow, it really won't hurt him."

"And whatever happens, we're here," Leo adds.

For a brief moment, Victor wrestles silently with himself: give in to his worries and confide in the _shiki_ , or hide behind the mask that Yuuri calls his 'phony celebrity face'.

"Thank you," he says, flashing his biggest and brightest smile. "But I'm fine."

Leo exchange looks with Guang Hong.

Whatever he's about to say, Victor never finds out.

Without warning, Yuuri bursts through the foliage and shoots into the field, face twisted ferociously in frustration. An icicle, keen as a knife's edge, slams into a spot near Yuuri, who dodges the projectile with a snarl. And then, in fit of impulsive rage, he lunges into the trees – there's a _clang_ of steel as Phichit parries the sudden attack – before a gust of wind sweeps Yuuri into a small whirling tornado and spits him back to the ground, dazed and confused.

"Now," yells Minako, flying into the open field, and Leo reacts instantly, swinging a bolt of green at Yuuri and encasing the half- _youkai_ in a translucent cage.

"All yours," says Phichit, landing silently next to Victor.

In an instant, exhaustion fades, replaced by a heavy jolt of adrenaline.

Quickly, Victor tears open the lid of the bottle, dips the tip of an arrow into the serum, and strings it to his bow in one swift move.

It's an easy shot: less than a hundred meters, and Victor has hit targets a hundred, maybe a thousand times farther than that.

But it's Yuuri – Yuuri, who blushes at every little compliment, who laughs when Victor pulls him into a quick tango dip in the middle of the living room, who smiles ever so shyly as he opens his mouth to say the sweetest, most adorable things Victor has heard.

 _I'm really glad you're staying._

Victor swallows and the arrow quivers. In the green barrier, Yuuri's throwing his weight against a wall.

 _Can we put our futons together? Just for tonight?_

Something starts to fester in the pit of his gut; _something_ –

 _You believed I had the will to fight back, even after seeing my transformation, even after seeing me lose control… and just that alone helps._

Victor's stomach sours, just as Seung-gil appears in his mind's eye, mouth pressed thin, glaring frostily in contempt. _"When the situation calls for it, can you kill Yuuri Katsuki?"_ the vision taunts.

He tightens his grip on the bow and concentrates.

(Beautiful brown eyes, heated, rosy cheeks, and soft, soft lips, curved in smile fit for a divine soul.)

 _Really, really helps._

"Victor," Minako roars.

Yuuri rams forward, harder, and the barrier blurs once, before fizzing out completely.

"I'll always believe in you, my angel," Victor whispers.

And he releases the arrow.

* * *

There's no howl of pain; not even a whimper.

The only thing Yuuri lets out are wicked tendrils of dark aura, almost akin to the last time his _youkai_ was banished. Wispy and black, the smoke-like presence curls and drifts as it leaves his arched frame, dissipating into the air.

And then Yuuri collapses.

The sight is permanently etched in Victor's memory: his love – his _life_ – looking for all the world like he's asleep, if not for the arrow buried deep in his chest.

 _His_ arrow.

The others rush to Yuuri, Phichit and Minako leading the pack, but Victor doesn't move. He _can't_ move.

All he can do is watch as Minako leans down to examine Yuuri.

The silence descends in a sudden, plunging drop.

Vaguely, he's aware that his fists are tightly clenched, nails digging deep and drawing blood. Inhaling harshly through his mouth, every breath he does draw just sears a burning path down his throat. Even his eyes hurt, probably from straining through his sleep deprivation, more likely from tears that seem to have caught there, unable to fall.

And then, Minako looks up, and Victor stops breathing entirely.

"He's alive and most definitely human," she declares with delight.

Just like that, the world has color again, and Victor feels his legs moving, taking him closer to Yuuri, as if pulled by some magnetic force stronger than his own will.

"Yuuri," he murmurs, dropping to his knees and taking Yuuri's hand, chanting the name like a benediction. "Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri…"

The world fades and it's just them: no exterminators, no _youkai_ , no hidden or long-lost mentors.

No arrows, whistling through air, piercing through flesh.

Just the two of them, together, always.

And lowering his head to Yuuri's, Victor finally cries.

* * *

"I'd love a cup of tea, but we have business to take care of."

Victor turns the knob, waiting for the three clicks, before the blue flame erupts beneath the kettle. "The serum?" he asks, turning around to lean against the stove edge.

Minako nods, back in her less menacing human form. "Murase may have corrupted the Saga branch, but we intend to present our case to headquarters in Tokyo. With the serum, we might be able to ensure a safer Japan for everyone: humans, _youkai_ , and half- _youkai_."

"Finally," Morooka appends.

"And I am willing to vouch for you, daughter of Kasenushi," Yuki says crisply. "I have never favored the idea of extermination."

"Thank you, Yuki - _dono_."

The four of them are standing in the dining room – the last of their motley crew. Phichit had left after contacting Seung-gil about engaging the Sweepers, Leo had hastened away to check on the Katsuki family, and Guang Hong had insisted on joining Leo, fiercely protective of his partner after the night's events. (Who can blame him?)

Victor glances to Yuuri. Though Yuuri's wounds had rapidly closed in and begun healing as soon as the arrowhead was removed, he feels better when he can see the covers rise ever so slightly with his angel's breath. "I take it Yuuri's _youkai_ half has been fully purged?"

"For now," Morooka points out. "It could become tainted again if Yuuri still doesn't get a handle on his emotions."

"Don't forget that Murase's still out there," Minako says, face darkening. "Knowing him, he'll place all blame on Yuuri for the massacre tonight and put a bounty on his head… and there's no telling how long our discussions at headquarters will take."

"In other words," Victor interprets, "Avoid missions and stay low?"

"Precisely," Minako says with a small smile.

Behind him, the kettle gives a shrill whistle, and Victor quickly twists back to turn off the stove.

"We should go," says Minako, dropping a hand on his shoulder. "And you should rest." She squeezes, gently. "You had a long night."

Inhaling through his nose, Victor closes his eyes. "I will."

And he remains still in the dining room, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, long after the front door closes, long after the kettle grows cold.

* * *

When Yuuri awakens, Victor wants to pull the man into his arms, declare his love, and kiss him senseless. He wants to burrow his nose in Yuuri's neck, stroke Yuuri's back, and feel Yuuri's heartbeat against his chest, strong and steady.

He wants to hold Yuuri and never let go.

But when Yuuri actually awakens, turning to him with wide, confused eyes, he freezes, lost in the bewildered gaze.

And so, lying prone under the covers, they stare at each other for a long moment, Victor's chest constricting with sudden and absolute panic at the questions Yuuri is about to ask, at how he can possibly provide an explanation without feeling his stomach turn inside-out.

"How did you bring me back?"

Victor blinks owlishly. That one is unexpected.

"Serum," he blurts, stumbling over the simple word in relief. "Your mentor, Morooka, came up with a serum to counteract Murase's."

"Morooka- _sensei_ 's alive," Yuuri muses, strangely calm. He lifts a hand into the air and twists it about, inspecting it idly, moving as though he's in a dream. " _I'm_ alive."

"Yuuri…" Victor reaches out to take Yuuri's hand and drop kisses on each knuckle, soft and tender. "What do you remember?"

"Not much," Yuuri murmurs. "All I remember is hearing – no, _feeling_ the roar of the fox in my mind, and then, nothing. I also remember thinking that this was it, that this had to be the end…" He takes a long, shuddering breath. "How many did I kill?"

"It doesn't matter." Victor shifts closer, pressing his lips on Yuuri's jaw. "You felled only those who deserved it."

Yuuri sighs, still oddly composed; the serum must have some sort of calming effect. "But it's enough for Murase to place a bounty, I'm sure."

Then, suddenly, he rolls over to clasp Victor's face and fix a hard, penetrating gaze into his eyes. "You need to leave."

Victor frowns. "Yuuri– "

"No, listen to me. Please." His angel starts to do that thing he does when he's sad and afraid and trying so very hard to hold himself together; that thing where he puts on a grave expression while his voice stutters and hiccups, betraying his real feelings. "I- I need to you leave. Because I'm going to have to fight people now. Humans. And – and I don't ever want to put you in a position where _you_ have to battle with them too, because it's… because it's not _right_. You're _Victor Nikiforov_. You should be filming for movies, modeling, hunting _demons_ , not fighting with – "

As Yuuri continues his rambling speech, an idea strikes Victor, and he carefully schools his features into a neutral look.

"Maybe you're right," he cuts in quietly.

Yuuri stops, and his expression wavers. "I am?"

"Yes. I should leave."

"Oh. Right." Yuuri swallows, pulling his hands back, something that looks like disappointment flashing across his face. "Yes, you should."

Hiding a smile, Victor rests his forehead against Yuuri's. Ever so gullible. "I do have one condition, though."

"What's that?"

"That you come with me."

Realization sparks in the brown eyes. "Really? For real?"

Victor laughs. "Yes, really, for real."

Yuuri averts his gaze and flounders, chewing on his bottom lip. "But… my work…"

"You're a freelancer, so I'm sure it won't be too difficult," Victor says breezily. "And it'd be far safer for you to be out of the country for now."

For a heartbeat, Yuuri doesn't respond. And then, slowly, he lights up in beautiful smile, Victor remembers what it's like to feel pure, unadulterated happiness again.

* * *

TO: Swiss  
 **[Yuuri's coming back with us to Russia! (o^0^o)** **]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[I hear from Phichit that you shot a friggin arrow into Yuuri and that's all I get? Not even an explanation for why you didn't include me in the Yuuri rescue?]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[Where's the trust? Where, I ask you?]**

TO: Swiss  
 **[Could you contact Yakov for me? He's not picking up my calls.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[... you are a piece of work, my friend.]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[So when are we leaving]**

* * *

"You _lied_? About _everything_?"

"I'm not the one who used Morooka as a way to secretly train you as an exterminator!"

"I'm talking about your movie filming!"

"To be fair," says Victor, "I didn't exactly lie about that. You assumed and I went along with it."

"Oh, how very smart of you," Yuuri retorts, shaking the spatula dangerously close to Victor's face. "What else have you 'gone along' with?"

"Um, that Leo is Minako's _shiki_ and also your precious Vicchan?"

"Leo is _what_ ," Yuuri shrieks.

"Remember," says Victor, eyeing the spatula's every movement. "I'm confessing because I wanted us to start on a clean slate. I'm doing this for us!"

"That's what people say after they've had an affair," Yuuri snaps, glowering.

"Yuu~ri~" Victor whines. "What if I told you I love you and I'm willing to go to the ends of the earth for you?"

"That's _also_ what people say after they've had an affair." Rolling his eyes, Yuuri spins back to the stove and vehemently thrusts the spatula into the frying pan, stirring wildly at the poor batch of fried rice. "Whatever, it's not like we're an actual couple or anything."

Victor pauses. That's right; he hasn't confessed, has he? His excitement at the prospect of having Yuuri with him in Russia – of sharing a bed with Yuuri in his own home in Russia – has caused him to completely forget about his original intentions.

"Yuuri," he murmurs, stepping forward to snag Yuuri by the waist. When Yuuri glances up, surprised, he nuzzles his nose against his angel's in an eskimo kiss, eyes soft with affection.

"I love you and I'm willing to go to the ends of the earth for you."

A fierce blush blooms across Yuuri's cheeks, and his lips part, exhaling a breath that warms Victor's skin. "I um, I heard you the first time."

Victor chuckles as he grips Yuuri's hips and walks him backwards, crushing the other man into the counter, mindful of the heated stove. Absently, he has a sense of déjà vu, but directs his focus on more important things.

"My love, my angel, my darling _zolotse_ ," he croons, curling his tongue deliberately round the last word and marveling at the way Yuuri's flush deepens. (He'll have to call him that more often.) "I've given up my life for you and yet you say we're not an actual couple?" He breathes into Yuuri's ear, enjoying the way his angel trembles in his arms. Definitely déjà vu. "After everything that's happened, you still can't see my adoration for you?"

A swell of quiet, stunned and drawn-out, before Yuuri lowers his eyelashes, peering through them almost bashfully. "Do you really mean it?" he whispers.

Victor lets out a throaty laugh. "Does it feel like I'm joking?"

Yuuri shivers again, eyes darting to Victor's lips, and then he inhales, steeling himself, shoulders squaring. "Victor, I…" He starts to lean upwards, pressing his hands shyly into Victor's shoulders, and Victor feels his heart hammer in his ears. "I think I… I lo – "

"YUURI~!"

Victor lets out a string of curses in Russian, seconds before Minami flings his arms around them both, wailing about how he has heard everything from Phichit, and how he wishes he was there to protect Yuuri, and how he really, really, _really_ doesn't want Yuuri to leave Japan.

Teenagers are _still_ the bane of his existence, Victor decides.

But he takes some joy in noting that this time, even Yuuri looks more than a little disgruntled.

* * *

Notes

Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Notes:** For those who might've seen this chapter go up much earlier in the day, I deeply apologize. m(_ _)m On a reader's feedback, I've chosen to revise and add to some bits of this chapter, so here is the new version. Again, sorry for the changes, and please enjoy! _

* * *

The club is dark, lit only by the colored strobe lights whirling round the dance floor. It's filled with people, wall to wall, twisting, turning, jiving to a metallic, synthesized beat. Beams of light capture every motion like a frame-by-frame animation, flowing from one shot to the next.

As he follows the others, deeper and deeper into the darkness, Yuuri feels his heart pound in time with the heavy bass. The crowds, the lights, the noise – all of it overwhelms him, clouds his senses with pure stimulation. Even the _youkai_ within him is cringing with displeasure. His fingers twitch, itching to pull his weapon out of its strap, hold onto it as an anchor to sanity, but he knows he can't – he shouldn't – not unless he wants to attract potential enemies.

He jumps when someone grabs his arm.

"Stay at the table," Yurio yells into his ear, "Victor's getting the drinks, while Otabek and I go find our informant."

Table?

Yuuri glances down, amazed to find that he's standing in front of a small side booth. He really wasn't paying attention, was he?

He gives Yurio a nod, before sliding into booth, hands tapping restlessly against the tabletop.

Sometimes, he misses home.

St. Petersburg is a beautiful city, with unique architecture, spacious streets, and gorgeous sunsets that bleed orange-red into clear, blue waters.

But it's different.

The food, the people, the language; Victor's portable translator, unfortunately, doesn't include Russian. He at least had a small, albeit doubtful, grasp of English when he was in the United States. A large part of him feels sorry for Victor, who must have felt just as lost when he was in Japan.

Victor.

Yuuri's face softens into a smile. His life has been a whirlwind since Victor's sudden appearance. He still remembers the shock of seeing Victor at his doorstep, hardly half a day after their first dinner together. Oh, the dinner. It's almost ridiculous how one dinner can result in a sleepless night that stretched into looping replays of Victor's laugh, and smile, and every tiny, miniscule movement of his lips and long, slender fingers – for hours and hours and hours.

And then Victor stays with him. Through the transformations, the crazy revelations, and even a near-death experience, Victor chooses to stay with him. He knows of the rumors: how Victor flits from lover to lover, like a butterfly collecting its fill of sweet nectar across a meadow of flowers; how Victor enjoys the 'thrill' of a chase and has the attention span of a hyperactive child. The rumors may not be true, but if they are, then Victor's choice means more to Yuuri than Victor himself can possibly imagine.

Idly, he rests a finger on his lips, thinking back to their last attempt in his tiny kitchen, and Minami's untimely interruption.

Victor hasn't made a move since then, despite their mutual confession.

 _Mutual confession._

Yuuri holds his hands to his cheeks, flushing. He never imagined, not even in his wildest fantasies, that international model-slash-movie star Victor Nikiforov could ever be interested in someone like him. Victor is charming and handsome – the epitome of beauty and masculinity rolled into one man – whereas he's just plain and ordinary and so, so _average_.

Of course, the half- _youkai_ thing isn't exactly average.

Yuuri huffs out a laugh through his nose. Ironic that something he once considered a curse is now bringing him his greatest happiness.

However long that happiness might last.

"Wow, I can't believe anyone would leave a hottie like you all alone," says a voice in a thick, lilting accent.

Snapping out of his reverie, Yuuri turns in time for a lithe brunette to slide into the booth seat, pressing tight and close into his side.

"Where are you from, baby?" the man asks, slipping an arm across his shoulders. He's fairly good-looking, with the baby-blue eyes, ample lips, and strong jaw, but he's clearly no Victor Nikiforov. (Especially Victor Nikiforov in club-appropriate leather pants.)

Yuuri's lips purse in a thin line. "I'm not your baby."

"Aw, don't be like that," the man laughs huskily. He grabs Yuuri's chin between his long fingers, rough calluses scraping against skin.

"Pretty soon," he murmurs, and Yuuri sees the flash of red in his irises, "You will be."

A surge of quiet, filled in by the rhythms of the electronic beat pulsating in the background.

The man shifts back slightly, thick eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "What the—"

"I don't know what you were expecting," Yuuri says, his voice low and dangerous, tapping into the _youkai_ that's clamoring for a bite. _A little,_ he tells the fox, _just a little boost to scare him._

The man's eyes widen, petrified, as Yuuri's own eyes begin to glow – two golden dots in the dark.

"But I'd advise you not to try it again."

* * *

Victor turns to catch a brunette sprint past the bar, shoving through the crowds and screaming about a yellow-eyed cat demon.

"What happened there?" he asks the old man behind the counter.

"Who the hell knows," the bartender grunts, popping a bottle open and sloshing wine haphazardly into empty glasses. "Fuckin' incubi and their melodrama."

"You still allow those things in the club?" Victor sniffs, lips curling in distaste.

"Hey, we all gotta feed, Nikiforov." The bartender slides two glasses toward him. "I allow _you_ degenerates in my club, don't I?"

"Fair enough," Victor chuckles. He tosses some cash at the old man, before sweeping the glasses off the greasy counter and heading back to the booth.

Barely a week after they arrived in Russia, Yurio had caught wind of his return and, with typical brashness, barged into his perfect domestic bliss with Yuuri. And Yuuri, his sweet angel, naturally agreed to assist Yurio in his latest mission: something about a vampire Kingpin who has been distributing human blood throughout the city and inciting the recent blood cravings. So here they are, infiltrating the seedy, demon-infested Club Paradise to seek out a vampire informant about potential distribution points.

Really, his _zolotse_ can be too _nice_ sometimes; it had taken Victor a good two hours to convince Yakov that he needed a vacation, and a mission was most definitely not in his plans. Even Chris had declined, choosing instead to visit his family and "spend some quiet time".

Approaching the booth, Victor lights up instantly at the sight of Yuuri.

On the other hand, it _is_ a lovely excuse to see him in clubbing attire.

The Japanese man in question is slouched forward and staring blankly into space, arms resting on the table. And what a picture he makes, dressed in a simple gray V-neck and faded ripped jeans. Tight sleeves cling to hard, sinewy muscles that curve with every movement, and the loose waistline hangs on sharp hipbones and slips constantly, exposing a sliver of fair skin every few _agonizing_ minutes…

"Victor?" Yuuri is gazing at him now, brown eyes shining with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Just fine," Victor coughs lightly, handing Yuuri a glass of wine and sliding in next to him. "How's the noise? Getting used to it?"

"Better if I focus on something else," Yuuri sighs.

"Oh?" Victor takes a sip of wine and grimaces. He should have known better than to trust the wine selection of a bitter fallen angel. "What have you been focusing on?"

"Well um…" Yuuri hesitates, blushing ever so prettily. He lifts a hand to adjust the strap on his shoulder, Victor's eyes tracking the tiny motion. Even the weapon strapped to his back adds to his aura of exotic mystique. "Mostly about… us."

Suddenly, the wine doesn't taste quite so bad anymore.

"What about us?" Victor croons, bumping his hip against Yuuri's.

Yuuri breathes in. "Just–" he falters, gaze darting down to the table. "Just how we got here, I guess. Whatever 'here' is."

A dark lock slips out of Yuuri's slicked hair, falling, and Victor instinctively reaches out to brush it back, fingers caressing skin. Months ago, Yuuri would have flinched and apologized. Now, he looks up with a hint of a smile, the sweep of long eyelashes casting shadows over pink cheeks.

He's so beautiful, so divine.

"What do you want 'here' to be?" Victor asks softly.

"I'm not sure. We don't exactly lead normal lives, but I think…" Yuuri flounders a bit, taking his lower lip between his teeth and shifting to adjust the strap again. "I think I'd like to, um… go on dates?"

Victor bites back a laugh. It must take a lot for his angel to ask for anything at all, and the least he can do is to accept it with utmost sincerity. "We can go on as many dates as you want," he says solemnly.

Yuuri's face splits into an unbridled, radiant smile, and Victor feels his heart trip down his ribs, one by one. Really, he'd steal this man the moon if that's what he wanted.

"I also think—!" Yuuri blurts out, before he stops, shakes his head, and then lifts his chin with a touch of confidence that heats up Victor's stomach in a very pleasant way.

"That we should do the thing before Minami came in," he finishes strongly.

"Right now? In the middle of a mission?" Victor teases, chuckling when Yuuri's head bobs in three too many quick nods.

He leans in, resting a hand on Yuuri's waist. "So do the thing," he whispers.

Yuuri swallows thickly, flush deepening. Then, after a deep inhale, he starts to close the distance between them, eyes fluttering shut, and Victor waits, his own breath catching—

Gunshots ring through the club, and pandemonium ensues, people screaming and shoving at each other to get to the exit.

Victor slams his palms on the table, knocking over his glass, wine splashing in streaks of dark red. "For fuck's sake— _mmph_!?"

His eyes widen at the feel of soft lips pressing against his, hot and insistent, before the sensation vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

"A preview," Yuuri breathes, before releasing his collar and darting into the fray.

Victor slumps down onto the seat, the rest of his sentence still caught in the back of his throat.

Right. He can totally die happy now.

* * *

Yuuri dodges a stray bullet, reeling in sheer panic at his audacious move. The brief kiss was electrifying, sending tingles straight down his spine, curling his toes, and the fox – the fox is going mad, howling at him to return to Victor _right now, right this second_. He needs to concentrate on the battle, whatever the battle is, not think about the feel of Victor's lips, the slick, tangy taste of red wine, or the warm puff of breath against his mouth…

He whirls round, reaching back for his _sansetsukon_ , when someone splays a hand on his back.

"Just me," says Otabek calmly. Yuuri breathes out in relief, noting that his eyes have turned a startling shade of dark crimson. "Get the vampire with white eyes. We want him alive."

"Where's Yurio?" Yuuri asks.

As if on cue, a burly man flies past them, smashing headfirst into a wall.

"Who's next?" Yurio crows wildly, heaving up his giant blade and taking a chunk of floor with it. Silver glints under the whirling strobe lights.

"My club," an old man shrieks behind the bar counter.

"Where was he stowing that thing?" Yuuri says, watching incredulously as the blond proceeds to wreak havoc in the middle of the club.

"Trade secret," Otabek says proudly, before his stoic mask falls back into place, and he jerks his chin at a door to their right. "Go get the target. He's in a maroon tux; hard to miss. I'll look after Yuri."

Nodding, Yuuri beelines for the door and doesn't look back.

He bursts through to find the vampire's diminishing figure, running hard despite being dressed to the nines in an elegant tuxedo and expensive dress shoes.

"Stop," he calls awkwardly, "It'd be easier for both of us if you'd just turn yourself in."

The vampire glances over his shoulder, before putting on a burst of speed.

"Of course," Yuuri mutters, feeling foolish. "I wouldn't stop, either."

Cautiously, he reaches inside once again, recalling Minako's advice to communicate with his fox. ("He's your other half," Minako says sagely on the phone screen, ignoring Victor's hum of disapproval. "Treat him with the same respect you'd give your partner.")

 _Can you help me?_ he asks. _Please?_

He feels a sulky presence, like a child curling into a ball and refusing to budge.

 _The sooner you help me get that demon, the faster we'll be back with Victor._

A beat, before there's an answering surge, and Yuuri murmurs a silent _thank you_.

And it's exhilarating: the bolt of raw power rattling down his spine as he races down the dark street, pounding on concrete and closing in on the target at breakneck speed. He recognizes the feel of unfettered adrenaline pumping through his blood, of _youkai_ energy shooting his senses into overdrive, but _this_ … this is a whole new level.

He actually feels powerful – in control. No longer is the fox fighting him, or _against_ him; now it's _with_ him, an odd but familiar presence sitting in the back of his mind, its jaws splitting open in a wide smirk.

So this is what it's like to be a half- _youkai_.

Grinning, he yanks his weapon out of the strap and hurls it at the vampire's feet, wrapping the chains round a skinny ankle, before giving it a sharp tug.

The target drops – and lands on his hands, rolling nimbly back to his feet.

"Nice try, foreign pig," the vampire cackles, twisting round, "But I'm no—"

The rest of his sentence dies in his throat as he gapes at Yuuri, his milky eyes expanding to the size of saucers. "The fuck is with your eyes?"

"You're the one with white eyes," Yuuri retorts defensively.

"Yeah, but who the hell has _gold_ eyes?"

"Angels, clearly," says a familiar voice from above, rich and smooth, just enough for the _youkai_ in Yuuri to turn strangely restless.

The vampire looks up a tiled roof, scowling. "You!"

Standing precariously on the edge, Victor makes a show of great sadness, raising his arms and sighing despairingly. "My dear Ivan. Is that all I get after months of zero contact from my favorite informant?"

" _You're_ the one who disappeared into Hong Kong," Ivan snaps.

"Japan," Victor and Yuuri correct in unison.

The target gives them a flat stare in response.

"The lack of contact I can forgive," Victor shrugs, breaking the silence. Retrieving an arrow from his quiver, he taps the tip lightly against his cheek. "But what's this I hear about you returning to your old ways?"

Ivan starts to giggle then, a sound that makes Yuuri shudder, goosebumps crawling up his skin. The _youkai_ he hunts are rarely so sentient – so _human_ – that the vampire deeply unnerves him. It's far easier to exterminate a target that can't banter with you like an old friend. In his mind, the fox lets out a low rumble of impatience; it just wants to get this over with, talking be damned.

"Victor, my friend, you know what they say," the vampire says, still giggling. "When the cat's away, the mice will _play_ —!"

On his last word, he lunges at Yuuri in one sudden move, teeth flashing and claws extending.

In seconds, arrows whistle through the air, embedding deep into the vampire's right arm and leg, knocking him onto his side. The creature screeches in agony, clutching at his injuries that have – and Yuuri feels something recoil inside him – begin to sizzle like an egg on a frying pan.

"No, no, no, Ivan," Victor tuts when the vampire viciously bares his fangs at Yuuri. "I don't like to see my _zolotse_ treated with such disrespect."

He draws his bowstring, voice dropping in temperature until it's practically freezing.

"And you know what happened to the last demon who tried my patience."

There's a pause, with Ivan visibly mulling over his options, face contorting with fear and rage. Then, finally, he stills, hanging his head in defeat.

As Yuuri glances up at Victor, standing tall and beautiful on the roof, shadows crawling over a smile that resembles the triumph of a panther cornering its prey, he's struck with the realization of just how terrifying the hunter can be. (Deep inside, his _youkai_ yips its approval.)

* * *

"My club," the old man shrieks, spittle flying from his lips.

"Yes, yes, your club," Victor pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his hand dismissively. "Make out your bill to the Plisetsky family."

"Ex- _cuse_ me?" Yurio growls, while the old club owner finally collapses against a wall to suck in a good, long breath.

Victor looks pointedly at the large gunblade resting on a piece of rumble.

Yurio splutters. "And how was I supposed to know your precious informant would be a turncoat?"

"They made the first attack," Otabek agrees.

They're sitting on what was once the dance floor of Club Paradise, now devoid of pulsing beats and swaying bodies and, well – a floor. Ivan the vampire, bound and gagged, was tossed carelessly amidst the fallen debris, left to lay weeping in pain on his side, while they gathered to discuss their next move.

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose, traces of an anger migraine building up in his right temple. This mission has been shot to hell. It was supposed to be simple: get the information, and get out. But, of course, old habits die hard, and their informant is back in the blood business, doling it out and drinking it in like he did before Victor, quite literally, beat the addiction out of him.

And then there's Yurio – impulsive, destructive, _thoughtless_ Yurio.

(Without an organized cleaning crew like Japan's Sweepers, they're only fortunate to have local police with a lackluster work ethic.)

"Even with Ivan's information on the distribution points, your reckless actions have effectively alerted the entire demon horde of your plans," Victor says through gritted teeth.

"Which might make his information useless," Yuuri adds, casting a sympathetic look at the vampire.

"Or easily twisted into a trap," Victor says, crossing his arms.

"I can't help it if my weapon wrecks things," Yurio says, pushing his lower lip out in a pout.

"You _chose_ a weapon that wrecks things," Victor snorts.

"What are you, my dad? Lay off!"

"Actually—"

"We have to decide," Otabek cuts in brusquely. "Do we check out the locations, or wait for another haul?"

"We can't afford to wait for another haul," Yurio scowls. "We have enough blood-crazy vampires as it is."

"Then we'll check the next scheduled location," Yuuri says.

Victor's head snaps round, and the vein in his temple throbs painfully. "We?" he says in dismay.

"We," Yuuri confirms.

Victor spends the next few minutes containing the urge to smack the smug look off Yurio's face.

* * *

They return to his apartment, where Victor immediately topples onto the couch, a mess of leather and limbs.

"Yuuuuri," he whines, muffled in the cushions. "I thought today's mission was a one-time deal."

"It was," says Yuuri, his voice floating about somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen. "I just feel like Yurio really wants your help, even if he doesn't say as much."

Victor makes a garbled, unintelligible noise, too tired to argue. In the distance, he hears the tell-tale snaps of the gas stove, _click-click-click_ , before the sharp sound of a small flame igniting. Flipping over, he splays out on his back, one foot knocking into the standing lamp and making it wobble.

"What are you making?" he asks after a while.

"Tea," Yuuri replies. "Where do you keep your mugs again?"

"Second cabinet to your left."

Victor sits up just enough to rest his chin on the top of the couch, watching fondly as his angel stretches on his tiptoes for the mugs in the cabinet, the kettle sitting comfortably on the stove. Barely a week, and the man already looks as though he belongs there.

Ah, he loves Yuuri.

Even if the man himself is ruining their perfect couple vacation.

"Are you making the green tea Hiroko gave us?" he says.

Yuuri chuckles, "Yes."

"Perfect," Victor sighs happily.

–wait, perfect?

The fleeting memory of warm lips and a whispered promise dances through his mind.

He can't let his angel get away with that one.

"Come here," he calls to Yuuri, flopping onto his back and beckoning with one raised hand.

Yuuri sends a quick glance at the kettle, before he treads back to the living room to lean on the couch, flashing a bemused smile. "What is i—"

He manages a squeak, flailing as Victor grabs a fistful of his shirt and hauls him over the back of the couch, straight into Victor's chest.

"You're a tease," Victor says softly, encasing Yuuri in his arms and feeling the wordless shiver against his body.

"How am I a tease?" Yuuri laughs.

Viktor revels in the brush of fingers curling into his shirt; the strong, quickening heartbeat; the warm breath splashing onto his collarbones. "Giving me that preview in the club? That's teasing."

Yuuri's smile turns almost coy. "You told me to 'do the thing'."

Mm, he really likes this side of Yuuri.

Victor lifts Yuuri's chin with a thumb and forefinger, his eyes drifting from gleaming brown eyes to rose-tinted cheeks, landing on a pink little tongue that darts out and slides across soft lips.

"Well now I want the full experience."

And finally, after months of yearning, dreaming, and annoying teenagers – _finally_ – he kisses Yuuri.

There are no sparks, no fireworks, no fiery explosions on the back of his eyelids. No, kissing Yuuri feels familiar, comfortable, like the smell of grapefruit shampoo and freshly pressed _futon_ s; of breaded pork turning crisp in oil, naked ankles, and gentle laughter that makes his heart soar.

And when Yuuri shyly grazes his lips with his tongue, Victor tilts his head to take him in, hungrily swallowing the quiet gasp. Just like that, there's a shift in sensations, flooding him with joy and want, because it's not enough – it's never enough – and then Yuuri mewls his name, so hot and sweet, and god does he _want_ – so, so badly.

Somewhere, something starts whistling.

"The…" Yuuri pants, head rolling as Victor breaks away just long enough to drop sloppy kisses down his neck, "… the kettle…"

"Later," Victor breathes, surging back up to recapture Yuuri's mouth.

Yuuri melts into the kiss and sinks his fingers into silver strands.

The shrill whistling doesn't stop for a while.

* * *

FROM: Grumpy  
 **[WTF? Like I care what the half-demon tastes like? Stop spamming my inbox with filth, asshole!]**

FROM: Swiss  
 **[Very nice. ;)** **Text me again when you get to the real stuff.]**

FROM: Angel's BFF  
 **[CONGRATULATIONS! When's the wedding?]**

FROM: Guard Dog  
 **[Congratulations.]**

FROM: Priest?  
 **[Why? Why would you send me that? Are you so intent to torment me even from an ocean away?]**

FROM: Yuuko  
 **[lkajs;ljl3kfdldkdkssss]**

FROM: Angry Boss  
 **[Please. I beg of you. Stop sending me details of your break, and just come back to work as promised.]**

* * *

It's weeks to the next distribution, and Victor makes good on his word.

He takes Yuuri everywhere, from ancient cathedrals and grand palaces, to gardens, zoos, and museums. Victor's Instagram explodes with photographs, shots of them pressed against each other, looking up into the camera with unrestrained grins and laughter.

And then there are the many candid, inane pieces that Victor lists as his top ten: Yuuri's eyes crinkling as he giggles; Yuuri's wistful gaze as he watches a little boy skip across the street with a yellow balloon; Yuuri sneezing. ("It's not cute," Yuuri laments, after Victor manages a motion capture of his tiny, squeaky sneezes that never end with just one. "You're like a kitten with pepper on its nose," Victor exclaims.)

Yuuri doesn't miss home quite as much anymore.

Dates aside, the whole lot of making out sort of helps, too.

After their first kiss, it's as though they had opened some sort of Pandora's box for sexual deviancy. The urge is primal, animalistic, replacing all sense of human rationality.

They've kissed everywhere: every room in Victor's apartment, every _surface_ in Victor's apartment, even outside in public. Once, Victor secures them tickets to the Russian ballet, but Yuuri misses about half the story, no thanks to Victor's talented mouth and tongue.

Yuuri wonders if they're making up for lost time and missed opportunities, because there's really no other explanation for his sudden decision to slam Victor against the wall of a public toilet and crush their mouths together, or for Victor to respond with unrestrained enthusiasm, moaning shamelessly into the kiss.

A part of him wonders how much of this is driven by his own desires, and how much is actually the fox's. With every physical contact he shares with Victor, he feels the _youkai_ practically delirious with glee.

Of course, there's the other part of him that is perfectly happy to leave all thinking aside.

"Okay, so according to Ivan, the next distribution is scheduled to happen at— _will you two cut it out_?"

Yuuri lifts his head, blinking slowly, dazed and unfocused. "I'm sorry, what?"

Victor shifts under him, and suddenly he remembers that they're in the middle of an important meeting. And he's sitting on Victor's lap. And Victor is doing the most amazing things with his teeth on the curve of his throat…

"Augh, _Beka_ ," Yurio screeches, throwing his hands over his eyes.

Yuuri yelps when a hand grabs the back of his collar and jerks him backwards, off and away from Victor, before Otabek squishes into the gap with an entirely passive expression.

Somewhere in Yuuri, the fox whines in frustration.

"All clear," says the vampire, ignoring Victor's frosty glare.

"As I was saying," Yurio continues sharply, slamming a hand down on the map, "The next distribution is set to occur at midnight tonight, behind a warehouse near the port. It might be a trap, so we have to be on our guard." He jabs a finger at Yuuri. "You're our hidden ace, in case anything goes wrong. No one knows you, or the extent of your powers."

Yuuri drags his gaze off Victor's red, swollen lips. "Oh, sure. Absolutely. You can count on me."

Yurio claps a palm to his forehead.

"I heard you, really," Yuuri says, heat rising to his cheeks.

"No need to feel embarrassed, _zolotse_ ," Victor purrs. "I'd like to have you back in my arms, too."

"What are you, thirteen?" Yurio snaps. "It's not like you've never kissed a hundred others before the half-demon."

Yuuri cocks an eyebrow at Victor. "I know you're an actor, but… a _hundred_?"

"None of them compare to you, my love," Victor sighs, pressing a hand to his chest.

"This is mildly disconcerting," Otabek comments wryly between them.

"You know what, fine," Yurio hurls his arms into the air. "Kiss, make out, go hump till your brains leak out your ears. Just get all that shit out of your system before the mission."

Victor laughs good-naturedly. "You two would understand, if you actually got over your hang-ups and confessed already."

Yurio and Otabek glance at each other, before hastily averting their gazes.

"Wow, really?" Victor says, eyebrows shooting into his bangs. "I was just teasing."

"Meet us at the port an hour before midnight," Yurio spits out, rolling up the map, his ears scorching red. He turns and stomps out of the apartment, with Otabek trailing silently behind him.

"I think they'd make a fine couple," Yuuri remarks after the front door slams shut.

"I'm sure they will," Victor hums absently, snatching Yuuri's wrist and tugging him close. "Now, where were we?"

Laughter bubbles out of his throat as Victor peppers his face with a dozen light kisses. "You know, Yurio has a point."

"Hmm," Victor leans down to nip along Yuuri's jaw. "Does he?"

"Why _are_ we so… so crazy?" Yuuri rakes his nails down Victor's neck; plays with the silver strands on his nape. "It's not like we're having sex."

Victor pauses. Pulls back. "So it's okay if we're having sex?"

Yuuri drops his hands to his lap, feeling himself grow flustered under Victor's penetrating gaze. "Well, no. I mean, yes. I mean, it'd make more sense?"

"I always assumed kissing is as far as you'd go for now. Unless you'd like to go further." Blue-green eyes shine brighter than a lighthouse in a storm. " _Are_ you ready to go further?"

"I…" Yuuri licks his lips. He sees the way it catches Victor's attention, the way Victor just looks and looks, and his pulse quickens, stomach twisting with heat. This is not the direction he anticipates for the conversation, and frankly, he's not sure where to steer it. He opts for genuine honesty. "I don't know…?"

"It doesn't have to go all the way," Victor says gently, resting a hand on Yuuri's thigh, and Yuuri feels the warmth sear straight through his jeans. "There are many fun, pleasurable ways of having sex. As for your original question…" He presses a finger pensively to his lips, "I suppose we're like a pair of magnets. Strong ones that can't resist each other's pull. That's how we met, wouldn't you say?"

"Magnets," says Yuuri, eyes darting up to Victor's hair. It's mussed, like the man has just rolled out of bed. Like the GQ magazine feature where he posed on a bed, half-naked, limbs tangled in white sheets. The same man is sitting right next to him on the same couch, in the same space. He feels dizzy. "Right."

Victor smiles, and the hazy swirling increases twofold. "What are you thinking?"

"You're really, really beautiful, and I can't believe you're here?" Yuuri blurts out.

Victor chuckles, and Yuuri feels his face burn in mortification. "The feeling's mutual," he says, taking Yuuri's hand in his.

"I, I don't think it's just that," Yuuri says, throat tightening. Suddenly, the pieces are falling into the place, words surging forth like a broken dam. All the wanton making out - there had to have been a reason. "I agree with the magnet thing, and I definitely feel the pull - I've felt the pull ever since I saw you on the big screen, looking all gallant in armor - but it's just... you're in movies! In magazines! And it's a miracle that you're staying in my life, staying with _me_ , and I'm just so scared that you're going to disappear one day, because you're going to realize that I'm not good enough, that I've _never_ been good enough. But I want this, all of this, and I don't want any of this to end, so I just want to hold you and kiss you and go on dates all the time, before you..." He trails off, biting his lower lip, hard. "You leave."

"Wow," says Victor quietly.

Yuuri sighs, exhaustion creeping slowly through his joints. "I know."

Victor squeezes his hand. "And here I thought you love making out with me because of my irresistible charm and good looks."

It's such a breezy, ridiculous answer that Yuuri cracks a small smile.

"Yuuri," Victor says, sliding a palm against his cheek, raising his gaze to meet shimmering blue eyes. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

"I know," Yuuri mumbles. "I just think—"

He stops when Victor presses a finger on his lips.

"Think about this instead," Victor suggests gently. "Why do you think _I'm_ so 'crazy' with you?"

Yuuri blinks once, twice. "I'm... a novelty?" he tries.

Victor laughs. "Your sneezes are a novelty, yes. But my _zolotse,_ I've loved you since the day we met in that forest in Hasetsu." The blue of his eyes turn molten, singeing Yuuri's insides. "I've wanted you since then."

"Really?" Yuuri whispers.

"You have no idea how long I've ached to hold you and make you mine," Victor murmurs. "Ask Chris; he knows my woes better than anyone."

"Oh," says Yuuri, unsure of what else to say.

"So now that I finally have you," Victor says, cocking his head, "What on earth makes you think I'd ever let you go?"

Silence falls between them, and Yuuri stares at Victor, a million thoughts churning round and round and round his mind. He wants to ask _why me;_ _what did I ever do in my past life to deserve this_ ; _seriously, why me._

Instead, he hears himself speak, hears his heart drum in his chest, hears the fox make a high-pitched keening noise: "I wouldn't mind trying some of those fun, pleasurable ways, if it's with you."

Victor's mouth opens. And closes. Then, "Are you sure? You're not saying that because you think—"

"I'm sure," Yuuri cuts in, before his insecurities can get the better of him.

Victor eyes him for a long, drawn-out moment.

And then a lazy smirk spreads, slowly, across his face.

"Well," Victor murmurs, his voice dropping low. "It just so happens we have a few hours before the mission."

He kisses Yuuri then, slow and languid, until Yuuri can't remember what he was so anxious about in the first place.

"Bed?" Victor mouths against his lips.

Yuuri nods, seconds before he feels Victor's hands on his back and under his knees, heaving him up into a firm chest.

As Victor takes large strides to the bedroom, the fox tips its head back, ears flattening, and begins to howl in earnest, and Yuuri feels a gush of power so sudden and uncontrollable that it sends him falling into the fringes of a rising panic attack.

Minako never mentioned anything like this.

What the hell is happening now?

* * *

Notes

Three things:

1) Don't leave a kettle on the stove, kids. Bad, bad idea.

2) No, Yuuri still doesn't know about the mate thing.

3) "Zhu Li, do the thing!"

Feel free to squeal with me on tumblr: dreaming-fireflies. tumblr. com (remove the spaces).


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Notes:** I considered an epilogue, but in writing this chapter, I realized: it's best to end it this way. ^^; So here it is, THE FINAL CHAPTER OF YOLO. Thank all of you for your love and comments, and for sticking around this far. m(_ _)m I hope you enjoyed reading the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! _

_Also, I totally forgot to add this in the last chapter, but we have art! Commissioned the lovely HakaMii for this scene in Chapter 3: post/162340597612/commissioned-the-lovely-hakamiiart-for-a-scene_

* * *

Victor is… confused, for lack of a better word.

Since arriving in Russia, Yuuri has had firm control of his _youkai_ , and Victor has been extremely careful to ensure that Yuuri has no reason to feel anxious or distressed. He was worried when he caught the flash of gold on the streets – it was the first time Yuuri used his powers after the serum – but Yuuri was still Yuuri, and there were no signs of aggression from the fox.

But now: now, Yuuri is squirming on the sheets as though he's in pain, his pupils blown out, feral and _golden_.

"Yuuri, shhh, my _zolotse_ , I'm here," Victor murmurs, pressing a hand on Yuuri's cheek, eliciting a whimper in response. Feverish. Clammy. In the short distance between the couch and the bed, Yuuri has heated up, too fast, too sudden. "What's wrong, what happened?"

"I, I don't know." Yuuri swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, and then he grabs a fistful of Victor's shirt, clutching it like he's drifting in the deep ocean and Victor's his only lifeline. "The um, the _kitsune_ … the – the… what's the word for it?"

"Fox?" Victor guesses.

"Yes, fox." Yuuri blinks, slowly, lips parting. "It's really… _excited_? I can't, think of another word. After we talked about… about sex…"

 _Ah._

Shaking with laughter, Victor presses his forehead against Yuuri's neck, his concern dissipating entirely. He should've told Yuuri, shouldn't have kept it from him. Not that he could have predicted the fox's reaction, of course, but what a way for his poor angel to find out.

"Victor…?" Yuuri mutters, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

"Oh, Yuuri. I'm no expert on _youkai_ and their workings, but…" Victor lifts his head to flash a roguish grin. "I think your fox is just excited to finally claim its mate."

Yuuri's eyebrows knot together. "But it's just you and me here, and I've got the fox, so—" He pauses, before he abruptly grabs Victor's face between his hands, sounding clear and awake and very, very stunned. "You asked me about… about scents once. About markings. _Why_ did you ask me about scents and markings?"

Victor beams in a heart-shaped smile. "I think you know the answer."

Brown eyes widen as the light begins to dawn in them. "How? When? And why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't sure, but now, well…" Victor drops a kiss on Yuuri's lips. Then another. And another. Until Yuuri's arms are wrapped around Victor's shoulders and Victor's hands are on Yuuri's hips and they're breathing hard into each other's mouths, panting together.

"We're mates," he breathes, nipping at Yuuri's lower lip.

"Mates," Yuuri repeats, low and deep. A growl that sounds almost territorial. And then he kisses Victor, so hot and wet and _hungry_ that Victor completely loses his mind.

"God," Victor groans, and just like that, Yuuri flips them, physically and psychologically, rolling them over so he's on top, sitting on Victor's thighs.

It's everything he has dreamed of: Yuuri, with his piercing golden eyes, taking charge and dominating him in bed; scorching his insides and turning him to mush. And it's so easy. So, so easy to just let go and give Yuuri the reigns. Especially with Yuuri's mouth on his neck, and those hands wandering down to his—

"Okay, wait, wait," Victor gasps, ripping Yuuri's hands off. "As much as I'm loving this, you're not yourself right now."

Yuuri lets out a whine, glassy-eyed and flushed a dark pink. So beautiful. But definitely not himself.

"It'll happen," Victor promises softly, reaching up to run a thumb along Yuuri's jaw. He's talking to Yuuri, but also to the fox – loving one means loving the other. "It will happen, and I don't want you to get hurt, so let's take a breath, all right? Let's take it slow."

Recognition flickers in the gold, and Yuuri's face softens. "Victor…"

And then they're kissing again, languid and warm as a whisper of summer heat.

They take it slow then, just as Victor suggests, and Yuuri stays Yuuri, even when their underpants are at their knees; even when they're rolling their hips and pressing their bare thighs together, moaning and shaking, until everything turns white.

* * *

"Remember, what we want is _names_. Names of the bloodsuckers leading the operation, and—"

Yuuri raises his hand.

Yurio rolls his eyes, "This isn't a classroom."

Lowering his hand, Yuuri scratches at his cheek sheepishly. "I felt bad interrupting…"

"Just say whatever you've got to say!"

"Be nice to my _zolotse_ ," Victor admonishes, reaching across Yuuri to prod Yurio in the knee. "He's never done anything like this before."

"We might want to lower our volumes," Otabek says behind Yurio.

The four of them are hidden within a row of warehouse containers that sit at the back of the warehouse where a distribution is supposedly going down. With the destruction of Club Paradise and the loud capture of Ivan the vampire informant, the leaders of the illegal blood distribution must be aware of their presence by now. It could be a quiet, boring night, or it could turn into an all-right rumble. Either way, they're ready and armed to the teeth. Save for Yurio's need to demonstrate his leadership with the start of what appears to be some sort of motivational speech.

"If a fight breaks out, I'm assuming we want them alive?" Yuuri whispers, dropping his voice.

"I'd say yes, for interrogation," Yurio nods. "Three's probably enough, so feel free to go nuts on the rest."

Otabek smirks, red eyes darkening dangerously.

"Sound advice, boss," Victor chuckles.

And so they wait. For hours, and hours, and hours.

Or what feels like hours.

As Victor's concentration begins to wane, he spends his time gazing upon Yuuri instead, the other man's features alight with excitement and the golden glow of his eyes. He was sweetly embarrassed post-coitus, after he came back to himself and discovered that he was nuzzling into the end of Victor's throat and murmuring endlessly in his native language. In fact, his angel remained embarrassed for quite a while after, only warming up to Victor's touches again when it was time for their mission.

"Victor," Yuuri murmurs. "You're staring."

"Mm hm," Victor hums, brushing his hip against Yuuri's. He knows his angel is blushing now, too faint to see in the dark. "I was just thinking about how adorable you were after I stro—"

"W-W-We should focus on the mission," Yuuri half-yelps, half-whispers, his voice turning high and strained.

"Will you two idiots _shut up_ ," Yurio snaps. "You're going to expose our position!"

"Too late for that, foolish hunters," says a guttural voice, thickly accented.

Instantly, before anyone can react, Otabek is on his feet, pistols opening fire into the darkness, while Yurio hefts his gunblade over his shoulder and lunges forward with a deafening roar. The sparks off the gunshots reveal a sizable number of foes, all rushing toward them with their teeth bared and their claws flexed.

"Is this how missions work over here?" Yuuri says, stunned, tugging out his weapon from its strap.

"This one's a little crude for my liking," Victor laughs as he strings arrows his bow. "But you can always count on Yurio to make them exciting!"

* * *

Seung-gil studies his cards, glaring at the ones displayed on the table. The crafty Thai bastard has to be cheating. How is it possible for him to break Seung-gil's koi-koi four times in a row? His fingers twitch, itching to reach for the cards laid face-down on the other side of the table. He can easily sneak a peek before Phichit returns from his bathroom break. Slowly, he reaches over. Just one little peek…

The door swings open, and Seung-gil's hand jerks away.

"I wasn't looking," he declares firmly, twisting round to face—

Ah, good. It's not Phichit.

"Where is the half- _youkai_?" Murase growls, his face sporting ugly red blotches of fury and dark rings under his eyes. His hair is unkempt, messy, while his _yukata_ has slipped off one shoulder, exposing a thin, bandaged chest.

"Whatever happened to knocking before entering?" Seung-gil laments, setting his cards down on the table.

"I'm not in the mood for your dry wit." Murase reaches into his _yukata_ and yanks out a dagger, jamming its point at Seung-gil with a snarl. "I know you've been his contact and inside source. Now, tell me where he's hiding."

Seung-gil shrugs his shoulders and rises from his seat, sinking his hands into his pants pockets. He feels an odd calmness settling inside him, like a fog hovering over his senses. It keeps the panic from thudding out his chest and surging up his throat. "He's no longer in the country, Murase. I thought you of all people would be glad to have one less half- _youkai_ to worry about."

" _Bullshit_ ," Murase spits out. "You're hiding him. _Protecting_ him. In cahoots with Minako and the rest of her filthy _youkai_ crew."

Something glints at the corner of his eye, and Seung-gil spots Phichit right away. At the door, the armored yaksha motions for him to keep talking.

"Technically," Seung-gil points out lightly, keeping his gaze trained on the crazed exterminator, "Morooka's human."

Murase lets out a cackle that has Seung-gil's hair standing on end. "Human? _Human_? He might as well _be_ a _youkai_ for the way he betrayed the human race! Coming up with a serum to counteract mine? He has doomed us to a world of cross-breeding and half- _youkai_ , to a world where humans will no longer be the dominant race!" He shakes his dagger, unaware of Phichit approaching stealthily behind him. "You and Minako, all of you, you'll regret what you've done. You'll wish you had listened to me, and—"

Murase halts mid-sentence, choking on the last word. Seung-gil exhales a sigh of relief; Phichit has drawn his blade against the small of Murase's back.

"Let's put the weapon down now, crazy guy," Phichit says cheerily. "Nice and slow."

Gritting his teeth, Murase drops the dagger, before Phichit spins him around and starts shoving him to the door. "Not sure what you're hoping to accomplish here," Phichit adds, "But you really won't find my best bud in Japan anymore. He left for his honeymoon a while ago."

Murase's head whips round, eyes wild. "Honeymoon?"

"That's right, honeymoon." Phichit pushes him roughly through the door. "So you can forget about your mad obsession, because he's. Not. Here."

"And once Minako informs headquarters of what you've done, you're finished," Seung-gil says with a sniff.

Murase bares his teeth in a terrifying grin. "Finished? No. There will be others. They will take my place, and they'll show the world the true horrors of the—"

"Yeah, all right," Phichit says, slamming the door in Murase's face. Shaking his head, he returns to his seat at the card table, sliding his sword back into its sheathe. "Wow, did you see how thin he's gotten? The guy's so close to death's door, I almost feel sorry for him. And what is it with villains and monologues?"

"They don't have many who will listen, so they take whatever chance they can get." Seung-gil removes his hands from his pockets and sinks back onto his seat. "Speaking of which, any word from Minako and her filthy _youkai_ crew?"

Phichit picks up his cards, sniggering. "Last I heard, the council has agreed to meet with them, so there's progress."

"Good," says Seung-gil. "Make sure to let Gumiho know." He rests his elbows on the table and raises his cards to eye level. "Shall we?"

"Hell yeah," says Phichit.

(Phichit wins, again, and they fall into their daily evening routine of bickering over Phichit's sleight of hand with the cards.)

* * *

The vampires are slower, Victor realizes. Or, maybe, after months of exterminating high-speed _youkai_ , his reflexes have improved.

He fires three arrows in succession, nailing his targets and notching another arrow before the vampires have even hit the ground. On the top of a container, he has a bird's eye view of the fight, and it's painfully obvious whose side is winning. The vampires have greater numbers, but what Yurio and the team lack in quantity, they replace with skill and absolute, wanton recklessness.

Yurio has honed the finesse of using his gunblade, switching smoothly between hard swings and sudden, rapid gunfire, making his movements near impossible to predict. Any vampire who has had the misfortune of connecting with the heavy blade will attest to experiencing a loss of limbs, the miracle of flight, or the feel of his rib cage collapsing in while he's crushed five feet into the pavement. Those fortunate enough to dodge the blade are quickly, and mercilessly, gunned down.

Otabek, meanwhile, is Yurio's cover. Where there's an opening in Yurio's wide movements, a split second for an attack, Otabek thwarts any and all attempts with his guns and claws. Where Yurio fails to notice a third vampire to his right, Otabek slams a fist into the vampire's nose. And where Yurio's shots miss, Otabek makes them for him. Together, they make a deadly combination, an unstoppable pair, and Victor muses that his impulsive departure to Japan may have been beneficial after all.

And then there's Yuuri.

His beautiful, lethal angel of death.

He's in full combat gear, coat whirling, as the metal chains of his _sansetsukon_ whistle through the air. It's the only warning his opponents receive, before the silver-coated blades rip into flesh, burning demon skin and tearing out fresh howls of agony. Full circle, Victor sighs with fondness, as he stabs an arrow into the eye of a charging vampire. He met Yuuri, confident and fierce, in the dark forest of Hasetsu. Now Yuuri is here, in Russia, fighting with the same confidence Victor always saw in the man. And it's not just about Yuuri's confidence. Fighting in tandem with his _youkai_ appears to have further enhanced his abilities as well: he's barely visible on the ground, his presence revealed only through screams and the sounds of whirring chains.

A heavy-set vampire makes the mistake of sneaking up behind Yuuri, claws raised. Like a bolt of lightning, Yuuri snaps his wrist to reintegrate his weapon, and in the same motion, rams the spear tip straight through the pale throat.

Victor grimaces; he's going to have a word with Yuuri and his fox later.

Still, the brutal move has made an effect: a ripple of horror runs through the remaining vampires, and they pause, exchanging glances. It looks like his angel has unwittingly removed the head of the snake—in three seconds, no less—and the vampires are now lost without a leader.

How convenient.

"There's no shame in surrendering," Victor says, leaping off the container to land next to Yuuri. "Consider your options, my friends." He shrugs and crosses his arms. "You really only have two."

"Hey," Yurio yells some distance away, " _I'm_ the one leading the mission here, _I_ get to give the cool speeches!"

The vampires hesitate.

Seconds before a ringtone echoes across the docks.

"Oh, sorry." Yuuri tugs out a cellphone from his back pocket, golden eyes blinking in surprise. "It's Phichit. Why's he up so early?"

"Why the hell did you bring your cellphone on a mission?" Yurio demands, stomping up to give Yuuri a shove.

"Should be on mute," Otabek chides.

"Not the issue here, Beka—are you _answering_?"

"It might be important. Hi, Phichit? I'm actually on a mission right now…"

Victor clears his throat, as Yuuri cups a hand over his mouth and turns away, shoulders curling into a cramped hunch. "You know what they're capable of," he tells the vampires, who are staring incredulously at Yuuri. "Even if they may not look like it right now."

"Speak for yourself," Yurio huffs, elbowing Victor aside. He heaves his gunblade over his shoulder and puffs out his scrawny chest. "Listen up, assholes, you've got two choices. Either you cooperate and we send you to a nice little rehabilitation center outside the city, or we beat the information out of you and leave you to Beka, who'll drain that blood addiction out of your body in the most _excruciating_ way possible."

"I can be very creative," Otabek agrees, cracking his knuckles ominously.

Chuckling, Victor leaves the rest of the intimidation piece to Yurio. The blond has always been oddly eloquent when it comes to that part of the mission. "Yuuuuri," he calls, dragging out the name as far as he can take it. "You spoiled our image with that phone call. Can't you call him back later?"

"—hang on." Yuuri glances up, beaming. "Phichit says Minako and the others are meeting with the council soon."

"Wonderful," says Victor, before he leans down to whisper into the receiver, "Yuuri and I had sex."

There's an audible shriek, and then a shout of, _hey everybody, my best friend had sex with the man of his dreams!_

"Phichit!" Yuuri shoots a look of dismay at Victor, who pecks him on the cheek and counters the look with a beatific smile.

"No cellphones on missions."

* * *

"It is unprecedented that we have a _youkai_ among us in the council meeting room."

"I am honored to be the first," Yuki says, her glassy eyes wide and unblinking. Minako is glad now, to have asked Leo and Guang Hong to wait for her outside.

There's a murmur among the council members. They're sitting in a row behind a long table across from where Minako stands with Yuki and Morooka. The room is large and empty; the cold floors made of colored marble. Yuki is composed, unfazed by the reactions of the council, while Morooka fidgets constantly at the clasps of his briefcase. Seated in the center is the person who had spoken – an old man, his hair graying on the sides and turning white at the tips. He rests his chin on his hands, beady eyes narrowing into mere slits.

"State your purpose clearly and concisely, Okukawa."

Minako bows, low and deep. Recognizing the council's keen eye for status and wealth, she has worn her finest _furisode_ : pink and made of silk, with embroidery in the design of white cherry blossoms. "Sir, I am here for two reasons. The first, is to present to you a new invention." Next to her, Morooka hastily draws out a bottle from his briefcase, holding it up for all to see. "A serum that can purify a _youkai_ 's essence and take away their malevolence. With this, extermination will be a thing of the past."

She waits for the council's flurry of whispers to die down. "The second," she continues, "Is to bring to light the abominable crimes of Murase Toshio, leader of the _Youkai_ Extermination Society in Saga prefecture."

"The man who raised a revolt against you and took over your place?" the old man clarifies.

"Yes."

He arches a bushy eyebrow. "You caved easily before. What makes you want to fight now?"

Minako lifts her chin. "Because, this time, he threatened the lives of those I care most about."

"Did you not cause the death of his?" a council member asks on the far end.

"I don't think she had much of a choice," chimes in another.

"Silence," the old man says, and the members are quick to obey. He eyes Minako carefully, stroking at the white goatee on the end of his narrow chin. "I detest politics, so I won't stand for any slanderous accusations made for the sole purpose of regaining your post."

"I assure you, Sir," Minako bows again, "I have no intention of returning as leader of the Saga branch. I wish only to make it known that Murase has engaged in dangerous experiments that can, has, and _will_ lead to dire consequences."

The council leader turns his gaze to Yuki. "And the _youkai_ is here..."

"As a witness," Minako finishes. "To testify to the state of the _youkai_ in Hasetsu, where the Saga branch is located."

There's a pause, long and drawn out and deeply scrutinizing.

Then, finally, the old man nods once. "Make it fast," he says, cracking his neck, "I have a massage appointment in one hour."

Minako feels a surge of relief.

They've made it through the hardest part of the meeting.

* * *

 **FROM: Grumpy  
** [We got him! We finally got the bastard!]

 **TO: Grumpy  
** [Well done, Yurio!]

 **FROM: Grumpy  
** [Yeah, he ran, but katsudon cornered him in the bathroom! Bloodsucker nearly peed his pants LOL]

 **TO: Grumpy  
** [Well done, Yurio!]

 **FROM: Grumpy  
** [... did you set your messages to some standard reply while you're at work?]

 **TO: Grumpy  
** [Well done, Yurio!]

 **FROM: Grumpy  
** [GO TO HELL, VICTOR.]

* * *

Victor grins at his phone screen as he unlocks the door and shoulders it open. Christophe is right about riling up the petite blond – it's far too fun to pass up. The Swiss has returned to work full-time as his agent again, and Yakov has wasted no time in filling up his calendar the second his vacation ends. He avoids taking on hunting missions while he readjusts to his pre-Japan schedule of long hours and shots and shots of caffeine, but Yuuri, eager to test the limits of his newfound partnership with his _youkai_ , has gone on missions nearly every night with Yurio and Otabek since their last operation together. Christophe joins them occasionally, though he once laments of how his 'old bones can no longer keep up with the young'uns'.

"I'm home," Victor announces brightly. It sends a thrill up his spine each time he declares his arrival, and he wonders how he could have possibly found the routine to be dull and mundane. But then, that was the Victor before Yuuri. Impulsive and irresponsible and a firm believer of seeking any and every thrill presented to him, because hey: you only live once.

Hmm, Before Yuuri. Perhaps he ought to consider a new system for writing his dates. His birth year would be twenty-seven years Before Yuuri. His first successful hunting mission with Christophe would be eleven years Before Yuuri. His movie career also launched eleven years Before Yuuri. Really, everything he did before finding life and love was Before Yuuri.

Laughing to himself, Victor slides his feet into his house slippers. He can't wait to share his latest innovation with the man in question. "Yuu—" he stops short, nearly swallowing his own tongue.

Yuuri has come out to greet him.

In the lingerie apron.

In nothing _but_ the lingerie apron.

"Um," says Yuuri, tugging fruitlessly at the edge of the apron, calling attention to his creamy, thick thighs. "In celebration of your return to modeling and acting, and um, Yurio completing his mission, and… and Minako winning her case in Tokyo, um…" He gives a sheepish smile. "Tada?"

"Tada?" Victor croaks weakly. "Isn't it supposed to be, 'which do you want, bath, dinner, or me'?"

"It – It's embarrassing enough without me saying anything of that romance _manga_ cliches!" Yuuri blurts out. "I mean, the fox thinks I could do better, but—"

"Tada works," Victor tells him.

Pink tinges Yuuri's cheeks, and his eyes turn so hopeful and bright that Victor really wants to kiss him right now. "Great. But um." Yuuri fidgets with the lace on the edges. "Just so you know, this is a one-time deal. I just… wanted to see what it felt like. Just the once."

Victor steps forward and scoops Yuuri up into a princess hold, relishing in the feel of warm, bare skin burning against the fabric of his Armani suit. "Then let's make this one time count," he purrs.

Yuuri giggles and blushes harder, and Victor sees faint hints of gold bleeding into the brown eyes. "YOLO," Yuuri whispers hot and wet against Victor's ear.

And oh, did they _live_.

* * *

The werewolf picks himself off the ground, shaking away the ringing in his ears. The force of the grenade has singed the furs on his back and sent him flying. The bomb holds the scents and markings of none other than Christophe Giacometti, and if Christophe is nearby, so is Victor Nikiforov. There were rumors that the two hunters had left Russia for good, and for a while, it seemed as though the rumors were true. Some hunter called Plisetsky and his vampire bodyguard swept in instead, cleaning up the mess that started in Nikiforov's absence. (They're good, but they're young and _inexperienced_.) Then, as luck would have it, the silver-tongued bastard return to Russia with his gun-toting partner, hunting down more demons in the last three weeks of their comeback than their entire hunting career combined.

As the smoke clears, the werewolf makes out the familiar forms in the distance.

"You know how we feel about your eating humans," Victor says, clicking his tongue. Beside him, Christophe tosses a grenade up and down, lips quirked in a lopsided smile. "Can you only behave yourself when we're around?"

The werewolf bares his fangs, hackles rising. Their human stench fills his nostrils, churns up the hunger and cravings in his belly. "I am not your _pet_ , Nikiforov!"

"Clearly not, or you wouldn't be quite so disobedient." Victor grins then, like a sudden afterthought, and the werewolf's muscles tense instinctively. But the hunter doesn't reach for his arrows, doesn't even move. "To tell the truth, I also wanted to introduce you to my _zolotse_ , my lover, my new partner. If he doesn't make you behave, no one else will. Don't you agree, Chris?"

Christophe throws the werewolf a saucy wink. "He'll make you _want_ to submit, like a good little boy."

The werewolf has had enough. Snarling, he lunges, just as Victor and Christophe step aside to reveal another behind them.

The last things the poor creature remembers are a flash of navy blue, silver blades whirling in three different directions…

… and a pair of brilliant, golden eyes.

* * *

Notes

Thank you again! If you'd like, come follow me on tumblr dreaming-fireflies dot tumblr dot com.


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